Buddha always said nothing is permanent.
But no one ever taught us that when we were 7.
We ran through the yard.
Walked on the cold cemented floor.
Our lighthearted footsteps, trespassing the once booming palm tree farm.
Our laughters heard every Chinese New Year.
Sound of mahjong clicking at each other.
Image of grandma standing by the door frame.
The one who never stopped waving goodbye.
No longer our Kampung.
Today we truly learnt impermanence.
Like an empty river, without it’s soul.
Goodbye my hometown.
Goodbye our grandma.
All is forever etched in our memories.
佛陀常说世事无常。
但我们七岁的时候，却无人教过我们这一点。
我们在院子里奔跑。
走在冰冷的水泥地上。
我们轻快的脚步，闯入了曾经繁茂的棕榈树林。
每年新年，我们欢声笑语回荡。
麻将牌声清脆悦耳。
外婆站在门框旁的身影。
永远，永远挥手道别。
我们的家乡没了。
今天，我们真正体会到了无常。
如同干涸的河床，失去了灵魂。
再见，我的家乡。
再见，我们的婆婆。
一切都将永远铭刻在我们的记忆中。
