[cheung shun sang]

A insular
Airs of freedom kiss my chins

Green island lack of chauvinism

Life here has free margins

We have journeys to wonderland and wonder women is our aunts

Firefly also has its name to shine

Green hill nod my head

Clean waters raise my feet with all beauties in life

Monkeys play in little auspicious snow for real.

Passions have true heart for unit price

Babies are molded by their mother for love

Cooking smoke drives away sorrows of people that are nice

Children have beautiful toes that won all of mercies of goddess all over

Its fortress need heroes to strong its hold

Happy and free are belong to even the eclipse of the bright moon

Celestial with some little bugs that balance true evils like earth poles

Brave people dress in yellow hoods

Neighbor store dreadful heads for jackets

We swear not to waste a shot

Justices from our dome need some actions

Our right hearts excite our bloods too hot

Moneys should make in peaceful purpose when they are heaped

Literary of people are in crucifixions

Words from candles flames result to burn in our earths

Leaden mountains suppress our freedom with fix

Lantern has glimmers that should not be flatten

Every nice people lit flames in candles on silver stands

Flatters and servant's manner please go off and scat

Rosaries are broken in the sounds of tantara

If you slit my throats then I could have no breath

Armours are only shields of nice peoples

Heavy stormy wind s eyes are not source of realm

Chrysanthemums will continue to burgeon in our April

Temperaments and resentments are dress of shrouds

Apparat live in well off life with gentries

My wishes are wraths and nemesis to go around

Poor people hum the drools for foods treats

[Phonoho]

There is something truly organic in the tone of this. It shamed me the second time I read it, I guess because it struck me as very sad that such a tenderly worded poem could be left all alone here with not even a tormentor for company. Well, here I am, and I think it's beautiful.

An impassioned tale of life in a world of limited freedoms - poverty, censorship and do-nothing politicians - and of how a glimmer of hope still glows within the homes and hearts of the oppressed. It makes a strong statement but does it gracefully and in the tone of a voice from the valleys and hills - the true voice of its people.
It's not hard to read but it must be read slowly and purposefully, as if listening to an elder, maybe even doing a little rearranging with your eyes, but I think it reads wonderfully as is. I found myself reading it with a mildly accented ear. Good work here, especially with the ethnic flavor of the translation.

[RENA HANDS]

Is it not “An Insular?”

What about…

Airs of freedom kisses my chin
Green islands lack chauvinism
Life has free margins
We have journeyed to Wonderland and Wonder Woman is our aunts.

What is…

Children have beautiful toes that won all of mercies of goddess all over?

For me personally, I found this piece a bit abrupt because of verb usage and lack of more punctuation. Here in this submission, there are many beautiful images but the presentation is hasty.