MORE ABOUT 春节

I’d read about in books
the kitchen god hanging over the one coal stove,
the village that is home to five generations of the same family,
the dense population of Henan that makes the countryside seem like a city,
I'd never seen this China.

I’d heard people talk of
the Shanxi and Henan dialects that my untrained ears can’t understand,
the constant roar or fireworks throughout the night and early morning,
the squeeeeel pop pop pop of children playing with firecrackers in the street,
I'd never seen this 中国。

I’d felt the cold of China’s Siberia yet
I wear all the warm clothes, the same clothes every day, under my down coat,
I borrow my friend’s warmest shoes and wear the same two pairs of wool socks,
I lean closely against the radiator in the evenings and go to bed early so I can bury myself under two heavy comforters,
I 没 seen this 中国。

I’d smelt my share of smells in this part of the world but
the incense at the packed temple on New Years day overwhelmed,
the odor from out back was thankfully too cold to reek too bad,
the dingy gray air filled with coal dust that turned your nose black,
我没 seen this 中国。

I’d eaten these Chinese specialties before, but oh!
delicious dumplings and sweet glutious rice balls from scratch on New Years,
endless plates of sunflower seeds - snacks at each relative's house,
that huge bowl of dumplings on the morning I left made me full for a whole day,
我没看过中国。

Google Translation: I have not seen China.