Chinese New Year In Taiwan Poem by U Win Kyi

At the temples and shrines,
sutra are chanted in rhythm and rhyme,
as the big bells toll and chime.
Billows of smoke drifting so high,
into the hazy sky,
from the incense sticks burning,
the paper money flaming,
the firecrackers bursting,
causing air and noise pollution,
worsening the global warming,
by the five thousand years of tradition.

At the shopping malls,
the rich people are having all,
in a buying spree,
as if given free.
But the poor people are just window-shopping,
because the poverty is pinching.
The budget-money is so tightening,
for the rich-poor gap is largely widening.

At the factories,
the workers who get plenty,
of bonus money,
are happy.

At home, the children who get 'hong bao' thick and fat,
are happy and glad,
but who get 'hong bao' thin and slim,
are sad and hardly grin.

On the highway, the traffic almost grinds to a halt,
the drivers feel tired and exhaust,
the cars are moving at a snail pace,
wasting a lot of time which actually should be saved.
The married woman visits the maternal house-hold,
as a tradition thousand years old.
The son-in -law accompanies her with expensive gift,
to patch up the family rift,
according to mother-in-law wish.

On the dinning table are plenty of food,
many bottles of juice,
and many packets of sweet,
Ah-Mei eats after eats,
then sleeps after sleeps,
gaining weight of several pounds,
earning her husband's anger and frown,
because he loses money in playing 'Mah Jong.'