Riding the Wenzhou Bus

They squeak and rattle, and jerk and pull

And throw you across the floor,

The double-deckers, the number 5’s,

The 3’s and the 64,

They come in colours of red and blue,

Of green, and in spattered mud,

They wait for no-one but bully on through,

If you get in their way - there’s blood!

 

The seats are plastic and hard as nails,

The roof is but four feet high,

You scramble along on your knees at the back,

Unless you’re a dwarf, or sly -

And climb the stairs to the upper deck

To slide in the slime, and cuss,

You need to be dressed in your army boots

When riding the Wenzhou Bus!

 

The brakes are shot, they rumble and howl

As they wheeze and groan to a halt,

The body sways, and the rust is foul,

And they buck like a playful colt;

The roar of the engines is petty assault,

But your ears get used to the din,

The gears grind at the stop, the start,

And as second and third slide in.

 

But for one and a half, or just two Kwai

You can ride ‘til the day is done,

You can watch the girls in their stylish clothes

All hanging on straps, each one,

With bags and baggage and cases full,

Watch peasants, or someone’s boss,

Togged out in rags or in business suits

While riding the Wenzhou Bus.

 

And through the murk of the window panes,

All scratched, and marked, and fogged,

The Chinese go on their friendly way,

The rest of the world unplugged,

The shops, the temples, the slums, the views

Of the parks and squares - like us!

We rattle on by for just two Kwai

When riding the Wenzhou Bus.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Marie]

Great rhyming scheme as always. Your description of the Wenzhou Bus is wonderful--grinding, wheezing, howling, groaning. I don't think I'd care to ride it. Not even for two Kwai.