On a New Year's day

Located where the mountains and the sky collide, The great pagoda floats amid the sea of clouds, With a luxuriant garden stretching far and wide, And solemn sculptures monitoring the sacred ground. Along the thousand steps up to the holy site, The usual peaceful atmosphere is swept away By swarms of people coming for the New Year’s rite, Who slowly trudge ahead in total disarray. The strident screams and bitter curses fill the air Instead of hopes and wishes for the coming year, As the exhausted pilgrims jostle in despair And rush to fill the gaps as soon as they appear. The tribute of all kinds is carried up the way, From lavish feasts to gems and gold in heaped-up piles. And those who only manage just a humble tray Are met with mocking glances and disdainful smiles. The central square lies shrouded in a veil of haze As people light their incense and the chant begins. Each man thrusts money into Buddha’s hand then prays For power, fortune and atonement for their sins. Observing the surroundings from a stairway yonder, My heart grows heavy, and my mind begins to ponder: How far has this corrupt society gone insane When people bribe the deities for their vulgar gain?