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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422370" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Chinese Cemetery</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">smoke trails the sky<br>over the cemetery</div><div style="margin:10px 0">hell money burns<br>casting a misty layer<br>between this world <br>and the next</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but not its reality<br>even after death<br>you need money<br>they reckon</div><div style="margin:10px 0">stacks and stacks<br>they burn<br>every stack twenty million<br>everyone wants <br>their late next of kin<br>to be billionaires<br>to be rich</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of course they wish<br>in turn they would<br>be made rich too<br>through their proxies<br>in the next world</div><div style="margin:10px 0">at funeral they would<br>even burn paper mercedes<br>rolls royce, bungalows<br>computer, washing <br>machine, television set</div><div style="margin:10px 0">well you name it<br>they have it<br>for the departed<br>need them like<br>they were still alive</div><div style="margin:10px 0">they had buried <br>their dead but never<br>their memories </div><div style="margin:10px 0">they trail the smoke<br>to the hearts of <br>the departed<br>a thin line between<br>this world and the next</div><div style="margin:10px 0">after the visit, <br>they would go back<br>to wait for dreams<br>in case they have<br>done things not correct<br>for the hereafter</div><div style="margin:10px 0">here among the old <br>and new graves<br>the tended as well<br>as the less tended<br>it takes only a little plastic <br>bag to send ripples<br>of sadness in the<br>lake of my heart </div><div style="margin:10px 0">a little bag that leans <br>onto the base of <br>a gravestone<br>like a child in the bossom <br>of a granny <br>holding so much love <br>with its groundniuts, <br>chinese olives and sweets </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the little bag carries<br>so much of affections<br>this world and the next<br>it bursts the seams <br>of my emphathies for <br>perhaps one little child<br>who has promised to<br>be back at granny's side<br>every year</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i could almost hear <br>a child sob; 'Granny, <br>take care, I will be back <br>the next all souls.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Tiong+Chunghoo">John Tiong Chunghoo</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=422370" data-title="A Chinese Cemetery de John Tiong Chunghoo" data-description="smoke trails the sky
over the cemetery

hell money burns
casting a misty layer
between this world 
and the next

but not its reality
even after death
you need money
they reckon

stacks and stacks
they burn
every stack twenty million
everyone wants..."></div>
</div>
</div>