Jacqueline Leung’s note: “果實微溫,” pronounced “gwo sud mei wun,” translates literally from Cantonese as “warm fruit” and phonetically echoes “grocery run.” When Stuart Lau Wai-shing attended the Iowa International Writing Program in 2017, a bus would arrive each Tuesday morning, ferrying writers to the supermarkets downtown, where they would gather provisions—food, necessities, the small comforts of routine. This simple ritual shaped the three months of Lau’s residency, as it did for thirty or so other writers from across the world. Within that time, Lau composed more than sixty poems for his collection 《果實微溫》 (Modest Heat in Fruits), from which this is the titular piece. Here, “fruit” signifies fruition—yet also continuity, a quiet warmth passed from hand to hand, something both ordinary and eternal. In the original, “果實微溫” emerges like a refrain, a steady rhythm in the poem’s breath; in translation, I have played with its echoes, kneading its many facets into the syntax—its Cantonese wordplay, its evocation of a simple errand, even the original Chinese characters—because when I first encountered the piece, its shifting hues gave me such joy. The idea is to give readers a sprinkle of sonic and semantic hints to connect the dots even if they don’t read Chinese.
This translation appears in the wake of the federal government’s myopic termination of funding for the Iowa International Writing Program. And yet, the programme endures—reduced, but unbowed—promising a scaled-down residency in 2025, as its alumni seek new ways to sustain it. Proof, if ever one was needed, of the bonds forged there—the warmth that lingers.
◯
WARM FRUIT
◯
WARM FRUIT, a transliteration
of GROCERY RUN: when GWO SUD
is warm, is it ripe enough
to fall from a branch? A day into
my Iowa residency, I acclimatise
and heed my stomach’s calling:
I buy cup noodles
one-minute microwavable cheese sausages
pearly white rice
between fast food and slow simmers
a little heat runs, a prayer unsullied by resentment
After my ravenous taste of a foreign country
I pray I will still crave
the plainest flavours of home
On week two, we do another 果實微溫
Beyond the roaring urgency of food, I must tend to
the roster of my clothes, my jeans
worn too many days in a row
between hand and machine wash
I wonder if I should get detergent
or compact cleaning tablets
Grocery runs are like a steadfast waiter’s
persuasion, urging a swift choice
by my heart’s desire
for privacy—efficiency
Later, treading pants in my denim bathtub,
I’m thankful for the triviality
of having a handrail on the wall
On week six, although 果實 is turning lukewarm
I must still sort out a matter
with my accommodation, a struggle
between accrual and removal—
to take out the festering trash
in my air-conned room,
I need a pack of plastic bags
a bit longer than the wastebasket
with openings that can be
pulled and tightened, only
the bags are so thin, even heavier peel
sags through. And if I want to
clear the old dust the air-con splutters
onto every surface, the hotel’s facial tissue
is much too thin. I need kitchen towels
that won’t break with water. A modest heat
becomes a measure of skin, how thick, how thin,
circulating through the attendants’ weekly gab
On the final week, there are no more runs,
the driver idle. Time, at last,
to pack our bags. We grumble
about our indigestion of knowledge
like conceited frogs. My suitcase’s stomach
is never elastic, tight as security checks
at American airports
Between pliancy and policy, a fruit’s warmth
tastes like tempered nostalgia
Once it stores enough sugar, the fruit should ripen
and break from its branch
but it lands dong! on the ground, nurses
a little heat in a day for new roots to grow
I’m clutching a fistful of foreign soil to my chest
to cushion the shock landing
—written on November 12, 2017 in Iowa
◯
果實微溫
◯
果實微温，是名詞的音譯
是指購買生活必需品的環節
當果實微温，是否已近成熟
可以辭枝自落？我到愛荷華
駐校才一天，還是先涉水土
回應肚子的呼喚：
買了方便杯麪
買了微波一分鐘的芝士腸
買了圓潤的珍珠米
在即食和慢煮之間
果實微温，就像不愠不怒的禱詞
祈求狼吞異國的情調之後
最終還是會回味
故鄉最尋常的淡泊
第二週，果實微温如常
狼狠的食事以外，不得不着手
解決衣服的輪替，即使
牛仔褲也不能連續穿多天
在手洗和機淨之間
我考慮該買滌洗液
還是濃縮的除污丸
果實微温，就像侍應
不徐不疾的敦促
只好在私隱和效率之間
聆聽心聲，瞬間抉擇
然後在浴缸踏洗褲子的藍調中
學習因壁上装有扶手
如此的瑣屑而感恩
第六週，縱然果實微温稍退
還是必須着手處理
住所的問題，這次是在
增添和減除之間掙扎
要減除積聚的垃圾
在空調的房間裏發出異味
便要購買整包的薄膠袋
尺寸統一為比廢紙箱
要長一點點，以便摺口可以
拉高為紥口，只是
膠袋薄得連稍重的果皮
也可以墜穿，如果還要
減除陳年空調噴出的積塵
鋪滿房間的面板，酒店提供的面紙
便太薄了，要添置不會遇水即破的
厚廚紙，果實微温
成了不厚不薄的臉皮丈量
在每週房管輾轉流傳的口碑中
最後一週，果實微温消失
接送的司機都閒着，終於到了
收拾行裝的限期，大家都在
埋怨自己消化知識的口胃
像牛蛙的不自量力，行李箱的胃壁
從來都沒有一點彈性，就像
美國機場的安檢程序
在彈性和規限之間，果實微温
就像不濃不淡的鄉愁
原本以為儲足了醣份，趨近成熟
便會灑脱地辭枝自落
但當果實咚一聲落地，卻在一天之間
發出微温，催生幼根
至少抓一把異鄉的泥土到心中
減輕墮地的震盪
寫於12/11/2017於愛荷華
How to cite: Leung, Jacqueline and Stuart Lau. “Warm Fruit.” Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 27 Apr. 2025, chajournal.blog/2025/04/27/fruit.
Born and raised in Hong Kong, Stuart Lau Wai-shing received his PhD from the Department of Humanities and Creative Writing at Hong Kong Baptist University. He is a publishing professional and a part-time university lecturer in writing, editing and publishing. Lau is the author of several prose collections, including Alpine Forgetting of Shadow (2021), Obtuse Angle of Wings (2012) and The Child Holding a Flower (2007), as well as recent poetry collections Window, Pool, Unrippled (2024), Modest Heat in Fruits (2020) and How Broad Are the Plank Roads of Sunshine (2014). In 2021, he was awarded “Artist of the Year (Literary Arts)” by the Hong Kong Arts Development Council.
Jacqueline Leung is a writer and translator from Hong Kong. Her work has appeared in Wasafiri, Transtext(e)s Transcultures, Gulf Coast, Asymptote, Nashville Review, SAND Journal, the Asian Review of Books, Books From Taiwan, and elsewhere. She is a translation editor at The Offing. Her translation of Hon Lai Chu’s novel Mending Bodies (2025) is a winner of PEN Presents by English PEN. Visit her website for more information. [All contributions by Jacqueline Leung.]
Cha 