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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365720" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Family History</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My father left when I was one, <br>Or maybe two - I don't recall, <br>I have no memory of him now, <br>No memory then, now none at all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It didn't seem important then<br>I had my mother, she had me, <br>And Uncle George would call each day, <br>Call by most nights, and stay for tea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wasn't even curious, <br>My world was perfect as it was, <br>We lived beside a village green<br>And travelled by the village bus.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our house was large, a mansion set<br>In Parklands, much too large for us, <br>Whole wings were closed and boarded in, <br>My mother said, 'it makes less fuss! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It wasn't 'til I went to school<br>That doubts arose about my kin, <br>The boys would taunt and tease me there, <br>Would comment on my yellow skin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They called me 'Squinty' for my eyes, <br>They looked so different then, to them, <br>My hair was black and very straight: <br>'You'll never make an Englishman! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I asked my mother why I looked<br>So different, just like chalk and cheese, <br>She smiled and held me close to her, <br>And said: 'Your father was Chinese! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I met him through your Uncle George, <br>They served together in some war, <br>He charmed me once, but then he left, <br>Went off to fight for Chiang-Kai-shek.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I thought that he'd return one day<br>But truth to tell, he never did, <br>I heard that he'd been killed before<br>The White Army had turned and fled.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She mentioned words I'd never heard<br>'Formosa', 'Tao' and 'Mao Zedong', <br>'Long March', 'Red Army', words that I<br>Remembered when no longer young.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I grew determined then to seek<br>The truth behind my history, <br>To find my father, where he lay, <br>Tear back the shroud of mystery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Don't do it, son, ' said Uncle George, <br>'Leave sleeping dogs to sleep the day, <br>For once you rouse them, sleeping dogs<br>Will never cease to bark and bay.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'He's right, ' my mother said, her mouth<br>Was set, and she looked awful grim, <br>'You'll bring the terrors of the night<br>Down on us, if you look for him! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mind was set, I disagreed, <br>With all the folly of the young, <br>I thought that I could spend my need<br>And so made plans to see Taiwan.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only got as far as London, <br>There I went to the G.R.O., <br>Asked for the Births and Deaths they kept<br>To settle the questions I should know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when the book was placed before me<br>Words - they swam before my eyes, <br>The father stated at my birth<br>Was George Hubertus Syndon Wise! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I faltered then, and nearly fell<br>My heart it plunged to the floor, and then, <br>The mother plainly written there<br>Was one they called Wang Shu Qian.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My legs were weak, I barely stood, <br>My father was an Englishman, <br>I took a breath and walked the street...<br>My mother, a daughter of the Han.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I went back home to the mansion then<br>Ignored my mother upon the stairs, <br>Headed right up to the West Wing floor<br>They had boarded and banned me from, for years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tore the boards from the door and entered, <br>Thought I would find just cobwebs there, <br>But saw bright lights, and heard soft music, <br>A woman sat in an old wing chair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I knew, the moment those almond eyes<br>Met mine, I looked on my mother then, <br>The tears ran down from her high cheek bones<br>To stain her dress, Wang Shu Qian.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She'd lived forever behind these doors<br>All boarded in for a secret's sake, <br>And George had been with her, now and then<br>My father, living his life - a fake! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But all about there were artifacts, <br>Screens and parchments and vellum scripts, <br>Priceless furniture, paintings, figures, <br>Dragons, pearls, and the odd Phoenix.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">George came stumbling up the stairs<br>His face dead white when he saw me there, <br>'My boy... I told you...' he said, then stopped<br>As grey ran worrying through his hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hoard was that from a Chinese palace, <br>Wang Shu Qian was a keeper there, <br>They'd fled the rape of the communists<br>Taken their baggage with Chiang Kai shek.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When things are settled we'll give it back, '<br>My mother told me in Pu Tong Hua, <br>George translated her every sentence, <br>Love shone out from his eyes for her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Her name is top of their wanted list, <br>They hired assassins to search for her, <br>We thought it best to concoct those lies<br>To protect you from the world out there.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My sister took on the role of mother, <br>You were only a baby then, <br>While Shu Qian despaired to hold you, <br>Show you love as her only son.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hoard has since been returned to China, <br>Both my mothers live openly now, <br>I've been taking a course in language<br>Coming to grips with Pu Tong Hua.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My family history seems complete, <br>I know as much as I need to know, <br>The dogs are sleeping, skeletons rest<br>And I won't disturb their sleep - No How! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>(Note: The Chinese pronounce Chiang Kai shek<br>as Jiang kuh sher.<br>Pu Tong Hua = Pu Tong Hwa = Beijing Dialect.<br>Wang Shu Qian = Wong Shoe Chee-en) .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">25 December 2008</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365720" data-title="Family History de David Lewis Paget" data-description="My father left when I was one, 
Or maybe two - I don't recall, 
I have no memory of him now, 
No memory then, now none at all.

It didn't seem important then
I had my mother, she had me, 
And Uncle George would call each day, 
Call by most nights,..."></div>
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