This is a curious and original collection of poems, written by an American China. He has chosen Chinese forms and Chinese subjects, but has closed nearly each poem, no matter how lyrical, with an ending of two or three lines of bitter refer to the dastardly Japs. Thus the opening poem is an exquisite description of Chinese pottery makers, especially of a porcelain flute ""so thin, that the light shines it... and when you hold it in your hands in the evening, it is like playing tears ing in the wind"". The next, and last, lines of this poem are ""forget the tears, I heard the siren"". The impact of brutality against sensitivity and beauty is thus powerfully expressed. This poetry has a real love of beauty, a real understanding the Chinese sense of art, and a real feeling for the tragedy of China. All China lovers will enjoy it. In fact it deserves wide notice for it has a certain loveli that is a rare quality these days.