The Central Serenade
By William He

Moonlight breaks upon the water,
Ripples catching the city's blurred outline,
A distant mirage gathers at the harbour.
Crimson and cobalt bleeding into dusk,
Then a masked figure steps out of the dark,
Immaculate in suit and tie.
Still as a photograph caught in passing light,
Streetlamps burn above the restless crowd,
The pavement looks back in all the wrong colors.
Central's towers thrust into the night,
Steel girders straining against the sky,
Their rigid lines—a city on edge.
From the harbour, the ferries shrink to toys.
The whole skyline trembles in the glass,
Even the seashore seems remote.

The high terrace drifts through time and tide,
Tracking the solitary flare of staged illusion.
I turn a page of Western script,
And the golden idol shatters.
Mid-Levels' racing days are yesterday's ghost,
Yet the brass reed fractures,
And the breath of jazz turns to dust.
I raise a glass of Rémy Martin,
Letting its warmth soften the bitter aftertaste.
Midnight settles into the crooked rim,
A tilted cup, a half-formed sentence,
The masked man loosens his collar.
He bends over the page,
Trying to pin down what the years took.
The saxophone,
Playing phantom frets on a skeleton of air,
Scrapes the catacombs of the soul.

中环月半小夜曲
作者：何威廉

见荆花润月，
乍矗耸、
迷离城郭。
蜃楼半飘，
蓝红浮海角，
战惴心魄。
似魅凭虚立，
西装领带，
正隔空图度。
街灯冷觑游魂各，
影子悠长，
虹环捕捉。
维湾瘦楼如削。
想钢梁束紧，
神智挛索。

高台起落，
算孤光剧幕。
展卷西洋字，
金像落。
半山跑马如昨，
奈铜簧管裂，
爵音声薄。
人头马、
泼愁成乐。
兰桂记、
夜盏微醺语涩，
鬓云姿绰。
潮痕刷、
心脉撕搏。
萨克斯、
暗抚无弦轸，
灵台捶掠。