(A poem in English with Chinese characteristics)

Visiting my wife’s village in Prey Veng, I take a stroll. A monsoon freshet has just cleared, the air is heavy and damp.

The young rice fields shimmer in a deep emerald green; men work in the fields.

An old man rests with his buffalo. I greet him in his language, “More water, more work.” I say.

He looks at me and smiles, surprised to see a white man. “What else is there?” He replies.