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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424384" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Written on a Summer Evening</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">this melancholy dusk<br>as the rain falls into night<br>ever so softly<br>the breath of a dying woman<br>this bonechilling wind<br>trails the air<br>the darkened roofs <br>of the malay houses<br>add a solemnness to the place<br>filled with flowers<br>fruit trees, wild trees<br>a koranic verse is heard<br>and another cool breeze blows<br>the leaves rustle <br>the way a man shivers<br>big leaves, small leaves <br>twirl in succession<br>a twist dance<br>so cold the night<br>the old woman<br>sick bedridden woman<br>so long she feels she has been ill<br>a feeble mind <br>that could not make out <br>dawn from dusk<br>the old woman<br>her sigh<br>soft as the wind<br>bids her quiet farewell <br>around her grandchildren run<br>impervious to her pain<br>the leaves rustle again<br>the children's cry<br>divides her and the world<br>so long ago when she was a child herself<br>all seems a game, a film <br>heartfelt images of her own life <br>run through her mind<br>long lost husband, children, grandchildren<br>the breeze blows again<br>she feels its coldness<br>and slowly, slowly, surely<br>she feels herself inching<br>away from the alien surroundings<br>slowly and slowly<br>death to her has become something <br>to be embraced <br>she takes another weak look at the children</div><div style="margin:10px 0">rewritten from: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">this melancholy evening<br>as the rain falls into night<br>ever so softly<br>the breath of a dying woman<br>and as it stops<br>this bonechilling wind<br>trails the air<br>the darkened roofs of malay houses<br>add a solemn atmosphere to the place<br>filled with trees, fruit trees, garden trees and wild trees<br>a koranic verse is heard<br>and another cool breeze blows<br>a trail of ruslte <br>the trees waves, big leaves, small leaves<br>so cold the night<br>an old woman<br>old sick bedridden woman<br>so long she feels she has been ill<br>a feeble mind trailing the world<br>the old woman<br>bids farewell to the world<br>her sigh<br>soft as the wind<br>a solemness pervades her room<br>as grandchildren run around<br>impervious to her pain<br>the leaves rustle again<br>the children's cry<br>divides her and the world<br>so long ago when she was a child herself<br>all seems like a game, a film now<br>the breeze blows<br>she feels its coldness<br>and slowly, slowly, surely<br>she feels herself inching<br>away from the alien surroundings<br>slowly and slowly<br>death to her has become something <br>to be embraced<br>she takes another weak look at the children</div><div style="margin:10px 0">inspired by</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written on a Summer Evening </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written on a Summer Evening <br>The church bells toll a melancholy round, <br>Calling the people to some other prayers, <br>Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares, <br>More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound. <br>Surely the mind of man is closely bound <br>In some blind spell: seeing that each one tears <br>Himself from fireside joys and Lydian airs, <br>And converse high of those with glory crowned. <br>Still, still they toll, and I should feel a damp, <br>A chill as from a tomb, did I not know <br>That they are dying like an outburnt lamp, - <br>That 'tis their sighing, wailing, ere they go <br>Into oblivion -that fresh flowers will grow, <br>And many glories of immortal stamp.</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=424384" data-title="Written on a Summer Evening de John Tiong Chunghoo" data-description="this melancholy dusk
as the rain falls into night
ever so softly
the breath of a dying woman
this bonechilling wind
trails the air
the darkened roofs 
of the malay houses
add a solemnness to the place
filled with flowers
fruit trees, wild trees
a ..."></div>
</div>
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