Mother's Pomegranate
Author: Jiacheng Hu

As I split open the pomegranate, reminding
when I was a young boy, that first tasting,
red lanterns out of the window, reflecting
a warm and sweet daylight we were bathing.

It was you who broke the round belly for me.
Oh! Jade and agates tumbled beside my feet.
Red as your lips where you pointed and told me,
say this round, swollen husk was its belly, say
the children brimming within, are all its seeds.

We chewed eagerly, I chewed for my curiosity.
I was only worrying about it : "Don't swallow it,
don't swallow it, the children's bones with pity!"
The flesh, dry and bitter while seeds are juicy.

But once they got separated for too much long,
They turned the same bitterness at the tongue.
Today, the sun has been tiring, tough ages come
for the pomegranate trees and so their beauties,
the crystal clear seeds have no one to pass me on.

After I left, recalling my mother in the memory:
"But I only got one seed, and that's you, Jeffrey."
My mother you were saying that in mourn, and
oh! How I am the only bitter heart you've borne!

Bio of the Author：
Jiacheng Hu, born in Jiangsu Province, is an international poet and translator. His works, in both Chinese and English, have appeared in China, Hong Kong, the United States, and beyond. Notable publications include the poetry collection 'The Statue of Clay' (Chinese Poetry Association), 'Mold' (The Chinese University of Hong Kong Press), and the translation 'Selected Poems of Richard Shelton'. He formerly held the position of President at the Xi'an JiaoTong University Suzhou Academy US Center Literature and Culture Society.

Mother's Pomegranate
Author: Jiacheng Hu

As I split open the pomegranate, reminding
when I was a young boy, that first tasting,
red lanterns out of the window, reflecting
a warm and sweet daylight we were bathing.

It was you who broke the round belly for me.
Oh! Jade and agates tumbled beside my feet.
Red as your lips where you pointed and told me,
say this round, swollen husk was its belly, say
the children brimming within, are all its seeds.

We chewed eagerly, I chewed for my curiosity.
I was only worrying about it : "Don't swallow it,
don't swallow it, the children's bones with pity!"
The flesh, dry and bitter while seeds are juicy.

But once they got separated for too much long,
They turned the same bitterness at the tongue.
Today, the sun has been tiring, tough ages come
for the pomegranate trees and so their beauties,
the crystal clear seeds have no one to pass me on.

After I left, recalling my mother in the memory:
"But I only got one seed, and that's you, Jeffrey."
My mother you were saying that in mourn, and
oh! How I am the only bitter heart you've borne!

Bio of the Author：
Jiacheng Hu, born in Jiangsu Province, is an international poet and translator. His works, in both Chinese and English, have appeared in China, Hong Kong, the United States, and beyond. Notable publications include the poetry collection 'The Statue of Clay' (Chinese Poetry Association), 'Mold' (The Chinese University of Hong Kong Press), and the translation 'Selected Poems of Richard Shelton'. He formerly held the position of President at the Xi'an JiaoTong University Suzhou Academy US Center Literature and Culture Society.