Amidst the tempest’s rage and the barren hills,

The shepherd treads alone, the frost’s cold

No longer feared – spring’s warmth far behind.

Dr. Tzemin Ition Tsai, a seasoned poet from Taiwan, shares his poems

Dr. Tzemin Ition Tsai (born 1957) hails from a small fishing village along the southern coast of Taiwan. He is a retired university professor and serves as the Greater China Cultural Ambassador for ‘Inner Child International’ (USA), an International Editor for the Macedonian journal ‘Contemporary Dialogues’, while also being a columnist for ‘Chinese Language Monthly’. His literary works span multiple genres, including novels, essays, and poetry, where he masterfully conveys emotions and the deep love for both humanity and nature. He believes that “through the power of storytelling, literature becomes a lighthouse guiding us through the labyrinth of existence, offering different perspectives on the human condition and providing a sanctuary for contemplation.”

Cover photos of poet’s books

With numerous domestic and international literary awards to his name, Dr. Tsai has published over 2000 works across a wide range of platforms globally. His works have been translated into English, French, Albanian, Turkish, Spanish, Hindi, Hungarian, Slovak, Italian, Polish, Armenian, Arabic, Persian, Serbian, and more. His writing has appeared in over 50 countries. His publications include ‘Angel’s Heart’, ‘My Kick-Kick-Kicks’, ‘Memories as the Wind Passes Through the Bamboo Grove’, ‘The Mirror in My Heart, the Mist in the Sky’, ‘The Southern Landscape, My Hometown’s Ocean’, ‘Logical Thinking Applied in Daily Life’, and ‘Mathematical Applications of the Rubik’s Cube in Group Theory’, among many others. Wind Passes Through the Bamboo Grove* (Poetry Collection); The Southern Landscape, My Hometown’s Ocean (Poetry Collection); Travelers to the South (Translation of Daniel Piksiades’ English work into Chinese) and Accomplissement (French-Chinese Bilingual Poetry Collection).

THE SHEPHERD’S HEART

Amidst the tempest’s rage and the barren hills,

The shepherd treads alone, the frost’s cold

No longer feared – spring’s warmth far behind—

His eyes discern the distant path,

A road unbound, leading towards dreams of life.

The flock enters the embrace of dawn,

Knowing where their place is found.

The sky, wide and pure as ever,

Is freedom awake? Or is it eternal peace that never dies?

The sheep follow carelessly,

While in his soul, the steep cliffs pierce the sky—

Living for himself, beneath a distant star,

He wanders, drawn by the vast expanse.

He ponders life’s winding road,

Joy, sorrow, gentle anger.

Yet everywhere,

There is both solace and sorrow.

The mountain is steep, but the valley is wide,

Thoughts flow like a river, side by side.

Where can one find truth,

A foundation steady, a bond of fate?

In quiet moments, the sky turns golden,

He feels the wisdom of the ancients,

But still, he walks alone,

Finding his way in the field,

Only to leave behind a shepherd’s heart.

***

BUT A SONG OF THE FALLING LEAVES

Words float upon the mysteries of the universe, hidden

Within the spin of our shared existence,

Where appearances of might are, in truth, fragile;

Our collective tale

Rests on the pause of a horse or the meeting of strangers,

Not bound by tribe or nation, but by shared identity.

The threads of humanity intertwine without bloodlines,

A storm in a whirlwind, often unseen, yet deeply felt,

The specters of common trials, where divisions dissolve.

The bridge of understanding must be built with care,

Cultural chasms need to be crossed,

Exploring without straying from the essence.

Unharmonious pressures we bear, sharing the notes of peace,

Composing our shared burdens in grand symphony.

From distant places to the neighbor next door,

The heart of humanity beats in the universal fraternity,

Shaped by the philosophy of life, we are formed into our livelihoods.

As harmony beckons, we dance,

And the divisions in the structure of existence dissolve.

Are we but a single nation,

Or a world ever expanding?

***

THE SINGER IN THE TAVERN

The lamps in the tavern have dimmed low,

A maiden singer pours forth her soul in song.

Her voice, like a bird in flight,

Urges not to wait until the night is spent.

The words she sings are like verses of poetry,

Brimming with beauty and grace,

Yet they speak of love and loss,

I wish no longer to suppress the searing ache within.

Now you have gone far away,

And my solitude fills me with sorrow.

Memories return, offering fleeting comfort,

But I yearn to keep my mind intact.

The heart you once touched, wounded by your departure,

Has withered, no longer nourished.

For long it was a part of my life,

And I shall seal it with beeswax,

Until the day comes when we are united once more.

_________________

Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"