Stanza I
The butcher--
hands on bone flipping,
boned through like combs,
every single park bloodied by gun,
knifed to cave after cave of wounding,
a Messiah’s frame, mad overturned thunder,
12-13-1937 for Japan in years of our memorization,
irrelevant pen it mini-civilized, year off civilization,
of an Emperor’s name, a flag turned blunder,
life under wave over wave of pounding,
below a darkened and wrinkle sun,
stone flown to bits by bombs,
a land in blood weeping--
The rupture.
Seven weeks,
thousands of hundreds,
even many minor, females,
a page of devil lines recalled--
Raped under chilled katana by a gang of killers.
The female-homed samurais’
Male deformed in volunteer.
Being shaped shielded agenda bang for healers,
stage for de civil signs scored--
junior/senior, not only males,
thousands of millions,
seventy years.
Weep,
with peers,
underground passion of rings,
pain never make past saddened alone,
moon’s cold long badly atoned a country,
emotion of the rape harked by map wrapping,
year 2007 torched against sin under global integrity.
Hear heaven’s vocal sincerity torching with dignity,
a nation to shape among marks of gap lapping,
wound’s old song sadly toned each entry,
an ever main pick for a heartened tone,
extra-sound of lotion on strings,
with no fears-
A rip.
Dears, thou unrested--
Let hearing renew: Tone to heal, stone peeled, thy tear sealed.
Dears, be rested.
Stanza II
Japan in years of memorization for nineteen thirty-seven,
pounding wave over wave of bombs/stones on life.
In name of Emperor, under the flag,
sun turned to wrinkle and dark.
Bone, after butcher's hand,
flipping.
Weeping
blood upon ruptured land,
gun overturned each single park,
framed as Messiah, thunder of mad.
Wounding cave after cave, combed bones by knife,
pen it a year off civilization, mini-civilized be irrelevant.
Recalling lines of devil page:
Hundreds with thousands,
females, even de minors,
weeks for seven,
gang raped--
under de killers' chilled katana.
Samurai homed from female,
volunteer deformed as male.
New healers' shielded agenda:
Bang shaped--
Years for seventy,
females/males/seniors,
over millions of thousands,
scoring signs for a civil stage.
Global integrity torched against sin in two thousand seven.
By emotion, wrap up such map being harked of rape,
weep with peers for rings of passion underground.
A country atoned bad long by de cold moon,
saddened past never make de pain
alone.
Tone,
heartened pick thou an ever-main,
toned each entry of sad song off old wound.
Rip, with no fears, strings in lotion of extra-sound.
Of a nation, lapping over gap marked among shape,
vocal sincerity with torch accompanied a dignity up heaven.
Unrested thou dears--
We do hear: May our tone, peel the stone, seal thy tear.
Be rested, dears.
 |
| Chan Wing-Chi |
BIO: During his tenure as Development Director for the Washington, DC Youth Symphony Orchestra, Chan Wing-Chi raised multi–millions to operate the Orchestra’s international tours to Europe and Asia. His artistic/cultural advisory spectrum has been crossing over the ocean, including serving as a consultant for the National Endowment for the Arts, New Jersey and South Carolina Arts Commissions, D.C. Mayor’s Office, Jiangsu Provincial Performing Arts Group and China National Symphony; D.C. Commissioner for National & Communities Services; Project Director for Meet The Composer New Residencies Program; Vice President for Washington Symphony Orchestra’s Board; commentator for Canada’s Fairchild Radio and Voice of America; organizer for Asia Pacific Life Insurance Underwriters Association Conference and Aetna Sales Congress; adjunct professor of music at Green Mountain College in Vermont and Shenyang Conservatory of Music in China, as well as external examiner for Master’s thesis at New York University.
In 2007, Chan, as choral conductor, took a team of twelve American vocalists to participate in a Memorial Concert for the 70th Anniversary of Nanking Massacre, which included Thomas Young, who has been praised as one of the best three American tenors today.
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