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But we of the Three Tribes live undiscovered 
   In the reverberating stillness of the 
 Three Gorges...
And are therefore unknown to the warring mongol;
    His impassioned lusts -- his penchant for 
  Wanton destruction!
   If he comes, let him pass us by
 To continue his eastward migration in pursuit 
Of more enduring conquests:-
    Whipped-up dust, from flying hooves of 
  Their angry horses,
   Forming in billowing red clouds to scatter
 Into the inconceivable, gushing extremities  
Of endless plains;
    As we peasants, too, are sparsely scattered 
  As blown dandelion seed throughout 
   The flower-strewn glades 
 Of these heaving, tremulous hills; 
Although, he has no interest in poor fishermen...
    Such as we are...
  Nor neither their poor fish.
  
   He would just want to lay waste to our 
 Walled cities...
And, collapsing our regal towers,
    Carrying nothing before him...
  Crumble our empire into nought but rubble; 
    The Proud flags and banners of gold, orange, 
 Vermilions and rich crimsons
Torn down and thrown to the ground... 
    Trampled by many stamping hooves into the  
  Black, clammy leaf moulds  
   Of indifferent soils;
 Rare arts and precious objects smashed
Into fragments to lie in pieces
    Upon ruined mosaics;
  Palaces and temples -- roofless -- derelict -- 
   Opened to the raw winds and soaking rains:- 
 Through which, in the early morning, 
Slow-wheeling rooks crowding the clearing 
    Skies can be seen;
  And heard calling to one and other in
   Base, nasal tones; 
 Fading, finely painted, ornate walls 
Then overhung and heavily laden with vines, 
    Creepers and spreading ivies; 
  Once delicate tapestries --
   Threadbare, sodden and rotted;  
 In desecrated jade halls -- toppled statues
Of long dead kings; in darkened corridors --
    A subdued moaning,
  That might only be the sounds of muttering 
   Wind,
 Should be heard accompanied by 
Sporadic chimes from rusted bells;
    Deserted courtyards littered with high 
  Banks of stacked leaves;
   And everywhere, in obvious testament to 
 Subsequent ferocious vandalism...
Very little remaining but an awful destitution.
        
    Shuddering I put all thoughts aside...
  Lift my feet to the comforting, 
   Warming fire.
 
 Yellow Dragon roars amidst crashing 
Turbulence! 

    Over green-slimed yellow boulders:-
  A curtain of cascading water, 
   Further embellished by strengthening moonlight, 
 Shielding his impenetrable fortress;
He is a Fucanglong -- 
    A "Dragon of Hidden Treasures".

  All Dragons are endowed with Heavenly
   Beneficence...which is why we are taught
 Not to fear them.

The mother of Liu Bang, in her avid fecundity, 
    Dreamt of a Dragon...
  And thusly conceived of him...and in that 
   Conceiving --
 Spawned a Dynasty!

In Brookside Village, stone pontoons 
    Retreat further back from a swarming 
  Waterline;
   King Ba palace -- relinquishes --
 Slumps backwards onto its brooding 
Mountain top;
    As dappling Autumn sunlight so permeates 
  To layer upon the interior of all leafy 
   Woodlands --
 So dappling Moonlight now layers upon the 
Jumbled passageways of tightly crammed, 
    Interconnecting houses:- 
  Winding steps, which, in brazen daylight, 
   Leap upwards, 
 Strangely immobile and unnervingly devoid;
Rail and wall, supporting stepped roofs, 
    Cling even more tightly to the fierce 
  Mountainside.
   Then...swirling wind subsides. Abates. 
 Chooses to seek shelter within densely  
Populated banana trees.
    Outlined in silver trim, against the 
  Enormity of this swelling moon, 
   Turned towards the stars,
 Towering Stone-Tablet inflates -- 
And Expands!
    Absolute. Defiant. Rooted. Steadfast; 
  Determines to remain invincible.
   
   Prepares to refute those evil demons
 Who inhabit the long shadows of the prowling
Night.
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