My Personal Chinese Poem

A calligrapher in Singapore wrote the classic Chinese poem for me with his brush on a scroll.  I showed it to an English speaking Chinese friend and he translated and interpreted:
The rain at night / Plum blossoms / Winter sweet/ In the land of dreams about the butterflies / A wintry feel
The poem, he said, is unusual in so far as the poet evokes reminiscences of winter in spring, while most of the poems about spring are just the other way round. They speak of hope for spring and renewal in the clutches of a hard winter. 

I myself do not often think of winter in spring. When I do so I think of a warm fireplace or the first hellebore blossoms I missed. Winter is the time of subdued colours like the animal print blouse in blurred ‘shades of grey’ as if calligraphed with an ink brush.

The black pencil skirt was also sampled in Singapore while the splash of red is European fusion. No Singaporean Chinese city sleeker would dare to wear such a bright colour. Understatement is the order of the day. Subdued colours, pearly skin and a fragile silhouette. For the flowery clutch and matching mules accompaning the black dress I looked out in neighbouring Kuala Lumpur. The Malay style allows for more colourful patterns.