Weather Sentinels by Ko Yu An

There is a group of girls at the weather station,
Off work they go laughing and singing to the seashore;
They like, barefooted, to chase the tide,
Or pick shells of every colour to sew on their coats.

Whenever the boats come back from a long voyage,
They help to unload the fish and dry the nets;
Others have embroidered their praise on a red banner
To hang in their place of work.

Through the veil of mist they go each day to the sea,
Send up observation balloons to welcome the sun;
Late at night they stand out in the wind
To watch the moving clouds, the twinkling stars.
When a storm blows up and sand swirls through the sky,
Their white overalls still flutter along the beach;
And when torrential rain lashes their cabin window,
They calmly tap out their code messages.

No matters how unpredictable the South Sea,
These girls can predict each storm;
And boats ply to and fro, heeding their warnings,
Each time with a rich haul in their hold.

A flock of pigeons, the old chairman calls them,
Whose gay songs fill the island;
A flock of seagulls, the fishing team-leader calls them,
Whose hearts take wing and fly with every boat.

Weather sentinels is the girls’ name for themselves,
They stand proud guard over Sisha for their country;
Imprinting on their hearts the wind and clouds of the South Sea,
Pin on their lapels the spelendour of the South Sea.

Translated by Yang Hsien-yi and Gladys Yang. Source: Chinese Literature Monthly, January 1, 1961.