A Selection of Poems from the Walls of Angel Island
Poems and translations excerpted from Island: Poetry and History of Chinese Immigrants on Angel Island, 1910–1940. Him Mark Lai, Genny Lim, Judy Yung
The sea-scape resembles lichen twisting and turning for a thousand li.
There is no shore to land and it is difficult to walk. With a gentle breeze I arrived at the city thinking all would be so.
At ease, how was one to know he was to live in a wooden building?
As a rule, a person is twenty before he starts making a living.
Family circumstances have forced me to experience wind and dust.
The heartless months and years seem bent on defeating me. It is a pity that time quickly ages one.
The gold and silver of America is very appealing.
Jabbing an awl into the thigh in search of glory, I embarked on the journey.
Not only are my one thousand pieces of gold already depleted, but My countenance is blackened. It is surely for the sake of the family.
Everyone says traveling to North America is a pleasure. I suffered misery on the ship and sadness in the wooden building.
After several interrogations, still I am not done. I sigh because my compatriots are being forcibly detained.
By One from Xiangshan
I used to admire the land of the Flowery Flag as a country of abundance.
I immediately raised money and started my journey. For over a month, I have experienced enough winds and waves.
Now on an extended sojourn in jail, I am subject to the ordeals of prison life.
I look up and see Oakland so close by. I wish to go back to my motherland to carry the farmer’s hoe.
Discontent fills my belly, and it is difficult for me to sleep.
I just write these few lines to express what is on my mind.
Poem by One Named Xu From Xiangshan Encouraging the Traveler
Just talk about going to the land of the Flowery Flag and my countenance fills with happiness.
Not without hard work were 1,000 pieces of gold dug up and gathered together.
There were words of farewell to the parents, but the throat choked up first.
There were many feelings, many tears flowing face to face, when parting with the wife.
Waves big as mountains often astonished this traveller. With laws harsh as tigers, 11 I had a taste of all the barbarities.
Do not forget this day when you land ashore.
Push yourself ahead and do not be lazy or idle.
Random Thoughts at Mid-Autumn Festival
The night is cool as I lie stiff on the steel bunk. Before the window the moon lady shines on me.
Bored, I get up and stand beneath the cold window.
Sadly, I count the time that’s elapsed. It is already mid-autumn.
We should all honor and enjoy her.
But I have not prepared even the most trifling gift and I feel embarrassed.
The west wind ruffles my thin gauze clothing.
On the hill sits a tall building with a room of wooden planks.
I wish I could travel on a cloud far away, reunite with my wife and son.
When the moonlight shines on me alone, the nights seem even longer.
At the head of the bed there is wine and my heart is constantly drunk.
There is no flower beneath my pillow and my dreams are not sweet.
To whom can I confide my innermost feelings?
I rely solely on close friends to relieve my loneliness.
America has power, but not justice. In prison, we were victimized as if we were guilty. Given no opportunity to explain, it was really brutal. I bow my head in reflection but there is nothing I can do.
Poem by One Named Xu, From Xiangshan, Consoling Himself
Over a hundred poems are on the walls.
Looking at them, they are all pining at the delayed progress.
What can one sad person say to another?
Unfortunate travellers everywhere wish to commiserate.
Gain or lose, how is one to know what is predestined?
Rich or poor, who is to say it is not the will of heaven?
Why should one complain if he is detained and imprisoned here?
From ancient times, heroes often were the first ones to face adversity.
Half way up the hill on Island, in the building upstairs,
The imprisoned one has been separated from his people summer to autumn.
Three times, I dreamed of returning to the native village. My intestines are agitated in its nine turns by the false Westerner.
I have run into hard times and am uselessly depressed. There are many obstacles in life but who will commiserate with me?
If at a later time I am allowed to land on the American shore, I will toss all the miseries of this jail to the flowing current.
After leaping into prison, I cannot come out.
From endless sorrows, tears and blood streak.
The jingwei bird carries gravel to fill its old grudge.
The migrating wild goose complains to the moon, mourning his harried life.
When Ziqing was in distant lands, who pitied and inquired after him?
When Ruan Ji reached the end of the road, he shed futile tears.
The scented grass and hidden orchids complain of withering and falling.
When can I be allowed to rise above as I please?
By Li Jingbo of Taishan District
Leaving behind my writing brush and removing my sword, I came to America.
Who was to know two streams of tears would flow upon arriving here?
If there comes a day when I will have attained my ambition and become successful, I will certainly behead the barbarians and spare not a single blade of grass.
I have ten-thousand hopes that the revolutionary armies will complete their victory, And help make the mining enterprises successful in the ancestral land. They will build many battleships and come to the U.S. territory, Vowing never to stop till the white men are completely annihilated.
I left the village well behind me, bade farewell to my father and mother.
No I gaze at distant clouds and mountains, my sleeves drenched by my tears.
The wandering son longed to be wealthy like Taozhu. Who would have known I would be imprisoned on Island?
I beat my breast when I think of China and cry bitterly like Ruan Ji.
Our country’s wealth is being drained by foreigners, causing us to suffer national humiliations.
My fellow countrymen, have foresignt, plan to be resolute.
And vow to conquer America and avenge previous wrongs!
By a wanderer from Heungshan
If the land of the Flowery Flag is occupied by us in turn, The wooden building will be left for the angel’s revenge.
If you have but one breath left, do not be discouraged from your purpose.
I respectfully exhort my brothers who are all talents of Chu.
Having a sense of shame, one can eradicate shame. Only by wielding the lance can one avoid certain defeat.
Do not say that we have not the means to level the ugly barbarians.
I am searching for a method that will turn destiny back.
One-hundred-thousand men sharpen their swords, Swearing to behead the Loulan and open the grasslands and fallow fields.
When I began reflecting, I became sad and composed a poem.
It was because my family was poor that I left for the country of the Flowery Flag.
I only hoped that when I arrived it would be easy to go ashore.
Who was to know the barbarians would change the regulations?
They stab the ear to test the blood and in addition they examine the excrement.
If there is even a shadow of hookworms, one must be transferred to undergo a cure.
They took several dozen foreign dollars.
Imprisoned in the hospital, I was miserable with grief and sorrow.
I do not know when I will be cured. If one day I can escape and rise to my aspirations.
I will leave this place for once and for all and not be dependent on her,
To avoid humiliation and oppression by the devils. My fellow villagers seeing this should take heed and remember, I write my wild words to let those after me know.
Although I had read through four or five loads of poetry and history,
I had only one blue shirt when I became old. The American woman asked what age I was, Fifty years ago it was 23.