Some tree fern panels are still under the eaves...
The wire-cylinder just built by grandpa
Was too late to cultivate orchids before he and uncles
Emigrated to Brazil
And never come back again.
The deserted wire-cylinder in my childhood
Slowly decayed, disappeared
And was not uncovered from my grown-up memories
Until grandpa's bone ash
Was brought back to home
There were many things in my childhood
That were not even realized.
The strange land of the devouring Amazon
Is actually the homeland of the orchids
The wire-cylinder grandpa built for.
It is in fact an allegory of death!
However my mother said
Grandpa was infected by the orchid fever
After his retirement
In order to make some more money
Then he fell a victim to the emigrant fever
Dreaming to help his sons to make some businesses...
Some tree fern panels are still under the eaves
Twisted as memories
Black, rough, and dumb
Lack of fertility but hard to rotten
And are still able to cultivate new orchids
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