Wake up, go to school, sleep, and eat,

A momentary lapse or two within a monotoned routine,

The end of another year, one more or two,

A new birthday, a new life built for you.

Every night, she swims through murky waters,

A helpless, smiling, witness under the starry sky,

The monotone shades of a world long gone,

The loss of colour like the absence in her mind.

Strelitzia is my name,

A distant legacy to the green banana flames,

A beautiful bird in flight I display,

In every house, I always have my own way.

A hooded figure struts along the cobblestoned street,

A mask covers his or her face, one no one has even seen,

Embroidered with tales of reckless bloodshed, betrayals, and wars,

The impulsive reckonings of men and women long gone.

The story begins when I stepped through into the world of kindergarten,

Never did I expect that languages would be that much of a concern,

Mandarin was my starting point,

The title of “most difficult subject” I would soon anoint,