Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2017 | Page 48

New Tales of Old Shanghai
Kennedy School, Peckham, Lily Mei - 8
Through the window you see the modern glass city,
After all the stories, it is such a pity:
Old Shanghai has gone and this is the new,
Could there be, you wonder, any leftover clue
Of the lives that were lived and the places they went,
Of the fun that was had and the times that were spent?
Snow-white brides and dressed-up grooms,
Take photos for the banquet rooms.
Buzzing bikes and black-windowed cars,
Pass smart hotels and coffee bars.
Shoppers flock to good-luck malls
Next to old hutongs with crumbling walls.
The view from your window is endless towers,
Concrete instead of fragrant flowers.
Traffic-filled streets and a sunless sky,
Reflect in waters of the river flowing by.
People in a hurry with no time to waste,
A city that's living in constant haste.
The old woman stays still and speaks at last,
Telling her stories of the distant past.
Of a time that has been and will never return,
Of moments from which we may hope to learn.
Her eyes are fixed, her wrinkled face
Shines with the light of a hidden grace:
"Imagine yourself in that world like a dream,
A boat swirling down a dazzling stream.
You'd go to watch the horses race,
Your mother in her fine white lace.
The People's Square was then a track,
Your father knew which horse to back."