Spittoon U Corner gives students the opportunity to showcase their creative writing.

1.
I hear the Night walking from afar,
In garments of glittering stars,
Dotted with lights, falling on your hair,
To sketch a picture so comely and fair.
Odors in the air drown us in a dream,
Filled with verses, songs and silver beam,
A gentle gust of wind,
Flutters the lazy leaves overhead,
Linger, until is stamped upon my brain,
An image of a night so serene,
So long as stars are not dimmed,
So long your brightness shall never fade.

2.
The sky is tinged with pink by sunset,
A girl of wit and beauty I have met,
So gentle, mild, enchanting her eyes are,
How comely and lovely a smile she wore,
I wish to share her all the music I loved
And memories in the music once fled,
To walk under dim street lights in refreshing air
When warm breeze ruffles her brown entwisted hair,
If I am granted with the privilege
I would take her to the world’s edge
To see the flaming stars, hung low on the rim of the sky—
Hoping that dawn never draws nigh,
And listen to the whispers of sea wind by the shore
When starry waves recede slowly before,
Then I may see her smile, laugh and dance
And I shall memorize this moment with poems and songs.

3.
When tender breezes drowned me in drowsy nights,
When starry sky dimmed all sublunary lights,
I could tell a faint fragrance
Mixed with magnolia and hazel flowers,
I saw the swirling crinoline of that plaid skirt,
Swaying into every corner of my heart,
Under the streetlight you danced,
Eyes brimming with affection, taking my hand,
And sang me a song
Of gentle kisses and sweet nights long,
How I wished this moment could last forevermore,
Until lands turned into waters like in days of yore,
In wail and woe I now walk alone,
For those were the days long gone,
If by chance I see you on a crowded train,
Will you look at me and smile again?

4.
When pale moon darkens and lights art dimmed,
Raindrops hath all the sound made vague and low,
Fallen art flowers shaken by the wind,
Hidden art tears of fore-bemoaned sorrow.
Then I summon up memories of th’past,
The gentle kisses like buds in the air,
Thy dancing free as wind with no dust,
And the scent of thy flowing locks of hair.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone
And condole with condolences foreseen,
From sadness to sadness I weep alone,
In drowning drunken dreams thou art unseen.
But everything passed like tears in the rain,
No trace of its passage is to remain.

5.
The last glimpse of the evening sun comes in three colours—
blue, pink, and orange，

Layer after layer, they melt into a purple shade—
the prelude to a gentle night,

Then the moonbeams kiss the earth,
I dream of fields of waving barley,

Tomorrow I shall arise and go
to a place where the wind blows,

And drift like a lonely cloud
high above.

Li Zhaoyang is a college student currently studying at Renmin University of China. Born in Shanghai and raised in Nanjing, he suffers a lot from the dry, windy and chilly weather in Beijing (and the food). When not being crushed by excessive school work, he enjoys writing, bodybuilding, going for walks, and having little chats all night long. He’s recently been working on his cooking skills and tries very hard not to blow up the kitchen.