A Chinese man called Joe
The Chinese is called Joe
That's possible if you believe
in fairytales again, I believe there are Chinese
called Joe, but I am not sure.
He calls himself Joe.
Joe has a new Peugeot
He says in his silent car
that we are and think the same
He knows the course of history
He knows of Sun Yat Sen, I tell him
I saw his statue in a temple garden.
Joe drives out of town and says
the sun is shining for us this fall
He knows the way and steers carefully
across sixteen lanes until the flats fall down
and the villages have been seen.
He tampers with the Mongols
Says the wall is sturdy and immovable
Shouts out of his window to nobody:
that the Mongols misjudged badly
Back to Gobi he says even before we arrive.
Without Joe we set foot in history.
Without Joe we meander through
this long landscape
we sigh about the Chinese sun
about out sore feet and knocking knees
We descend the wall and shout about us:
A Great Wall but Joe doesn't hear us
any more.
Our Chinese is called Joe
That's possible when you know who he is
Yes I believe there are Chinese
called Joe but I am not sure.
Arjen, Beijing, December 2012