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It was four years ago that I first time read Miss Rose of Sharon¡¯s poetry. Her poems took me to a fantasy land where aroma of wine was floating in the air and fairies were singing love songs in cherry blossom. Sitting in the fantasy land an ancient girl was crooning her loves and passions. The voice of her poetry was pure and clear. I was touched by the rhythms and words days and nights. My buried memories and tenderness was awoken in my dreams.
Rose of Sharon chose this flower as her name to express the shortness of life. The flower Rose of Sharon is born in the morning and withers in the same night. Ironically this flower means immortality in Korean since thousands of flowers are born endlessly in one tree. I don¡¯t know which represents our life, the shortness of one flower or the blossom of thousands of them.
Sharon was a college girl in 2005. The first love gave her a broken heart and nightmares. Love always comes with joy but evaporates in tears. Love hurts us all but hurts her more because of her sensitivity. At that time she pursued a poetic style of ¡®scream from the heart¡¯ as she described. In those poems, she liked to use words that gave the strongest emotion to describe her pain and sadness. Classic Chinese poetry prefers to present emotions and feelings in obscure ways. Feelings and emotions are hidden from the first glance. In contrast, Sharon emphasized to express herself with strong emotions and amazing vocabulary surprised reader¡¯s eyes since the beginning. Her literary talent was attractive. In the internet world she was surrounded by many fine gentlemen and was never alone.
Unfortunately most gentlemen existed in the internet but not in the real world. In the real world everybody was lonely. Among all the worshippers, one gave up himself and came to Sharon. The love between the young lovers was true but messed with jealousy and fears. For two just-graduated college students the life was tough and the future was unsure. Surviving in the real world wasn¡¯t romantic. Soon they started to fight for small arguments. Although the love was a fairy tale and was blessed by all their friends, it wasn¡¯t lasting long. During this period her poetry became more mature in the style of ¡®scream from the heart¡¯. In this style it seemed that the beauty of the language was more important than the rhyme of the poem itself. In this sense the vocabulary in several her poems were very stunning and elegant. Sharon had the sense of choosing words. Twisting with torture and helpless, the emotions in her poetry were sophisticated for such a young girl.
The painful love was ended in 2007. Sharon decided to study oversea. After two years of parties and banquets in her web space, many her followers were less and less active until vanished. She went to England. The night in England was cold, same as her heart. She was lonely, nostalgic but calm. She spent her leisure time discovering European castles and cities. She was rehabilitated or at least learnt to forget pains. During this period her poetry gave prominence to the smooth rhythm in the less of emotional struggles.
A
fter one and half year sojourn in England, she was back to her hometown. She used her poetry to express not only her emotions but also daily life. The tone of her poems was beyond feminine feebleness. The topics were not limited to that of the classical literature. She gave her classical poems a contemporary rhythm. On the other hand, she engrafted classical tones and grammatical concision to her contemporary poems.
In June of 2009 I finally met Sharon. By then 4 years had been passed. I had followed her poetry. I had admired her literary talent. I had deeply fallen into the emotion about her. At first glance I felt that I knew her forever. We spent all the time we could found together. We didn¡¯t talk much about poetry when we were together, because I¡¯d rather spend the precious time to know the Rose of Sharon whom I had dreamed about for years. I had to leave her after a few days. Now half year past. It seems a long, long time to me. Many things have happened. She could no longer keep the freedom of her spirit because of her tedious daily job. I worked days and nights to catch up an unfeasible dream. Looking back at the end of the year, I knew that we both were lost. When she asked me to write an English preface for her poem album, I knew that I didn¡¯t have the capability to express my strong feeling about her poetry and about herself. However, I promised to do so because it was the only thing I could do for her.
The first draft of this preface was done in the lobby of the Palmer House hotel in Chicago. The historical lobby had Renaissance style wall-paintings: Venus on a floating scallop shell was born from the sea; angels with wings were watching the crowd from the top ceiling. All the wines and all the laughing made me forget the winter chill outside. A wedding was just ended and some young girls were chasing in the hall way cheerfully. There was a place filled with laughing, happiness and beauties. I wanted to sit there forever and joy forever. But nothing in the world is forever. The Garden of Eden became ruins and we were expulsed. Poetry, as illusory as all the happy ending love stories, is nothing but children¡¯s dreams. We all have to grow up and face the brutal world. We learn to be rude and uncharitable to survive. However, I believe we all have dreams about beautiful things in the depth of our hearts. The poems in this album are too beautiful to be forgiven, even though all the stories will become the ash of time.
H.F.Q., Ph.D.
January 3nd, 2010
Revised on January 11st, 2010
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