Poetry Competition “Generations” Winners Announcement (Chinese Section)
Feb 27, 2026
We are delighted to announce two exceptional winners of the Chinese Section in HKILF 2026 Poetry Competition “Generations”: Kelly Chang King Yan for the Junior Division, and 李澤彬 Patrick Lee-Franber for the Public Division. The two winners will each receive a voucher and perform their works at “Poetry x Jazz” event on 4 March (8-10pm), at Aftermath Central.
We extend our sincere gratitude to all the talented participants who contributed to the success of this competition. A special thank you goes to our esteemed judge, Mary Jean Chan, for carefully selecting these outstanding works.
幾代人的照片
Kelly Chang King Yan
書桌上的相框,
一張黑白的照片,
是外婆在為破爛的衣服修補。
在衣服的補丁裏,
透着明亮閃爍的光。
餐桌上的相框,
一張彩色的照片,
是父母與祖父母溫馨的合照。
影子緊緊相連,
分不清誰是誰。
書櫃前的相框,
一張自拍的照片,
是我與弟妹在公園的自拍照。
弟妹在旁嫣然一笑。
有人在旁偶然一瞥。
棕色相框的紋路,
彎彎曲曲像滑梯。
這三張照片啊!
早把我們的心情牽一線。
同學用精簡的語言刻畫了幾代人的照片，
少年組優秀作品: Sylvia Tang Sum Ying 《幾代人的玩意》
幾代人
李澤彬 Patrick Lee-Franber
以前的時光像舊居天台石牆上的痕
天空微微放亮，又隱隱如霧
行人的步，安穩
祖母的針腳織著晨光， 半櫃的綠豆雪條。 我在木門上刻下祖母和自己的名字
。 沒有人責怪我。
家人走路都很輕──
歎息也輕。
怕驚動灶眼裡， 溫暖的火苗，
和小孩子的快樂。
母親數著成語的卡片，教我，
突然多出一張。
「虛驚一場」
像門縫裡擠進的，
完整的楓葉。
她教我寫字，有時溫柔，有時嚴厲
花丶草丶樹。
天空和石頭，
馬路和老虎， 還有我的姓名。
長大後，我在屏幕裡，
辨認痛苦丶愛情和公義。
如同沒有天空的鳥。
沒有山的石頭。
我習慣閱讀和解構，習慣麻木又熱烈。
抬頭，花和樹卻視而不見。
生活也如同小小的政治，
我無法無為，又無力鎮壓。
由無欲無求，
到遍地貪痴，
需要途經多少馬路？
多少虎視眈眈。
我想過去的苦
只是虛驚一場，
我希望定奪自己的名字，不被名字定奪。
時代浮在維多利亞港，
一船又一舫的歡聲笑語駛離，
波浪和船的痕跡消失了，
苦海沒有消失。
我聽著海的浪聲，途人腳步迅捷。
思索着，既成的語言，相似的意見。
世代彷彿責怪著所有人。
誰可以代誰原諒，
如果需要原諒。
沉重太多，呼吸太少。
我喜歡海岸邊的人，
不同都市的人。
他們依然認得， 如何安穩的走路，
他們認得花和草。
面對他人的疾步，
我選擇駐足。
十字路口，一針一線地織。
像祖母一樣，
認真的縫起破了的衣服。
我願有人可以溫柔地縫好時代，
如同祖母，輕手輕腳
縫好一塊毛巾。
這首詩用精闢的語言和動人的意境描述了
公開組優秀作品: 《身上带着岛的人》 by 萧璟
Poetry Competition “Generations” Winners Announcement (English Section)
Feb 27, 2026
We are delighted to announce two exceptional winners of the English Section in HKILF 2026 Poetry Competition “Generations”: Charisse Hue for the Junior Division, and Jessica Chan for the Public Division. The two winners will each receive a voucher and perform their works at “Poetry x Jazz” event on 4 March (8-10pm), at Aftermath Central.
We extend our sincere gratitude to all the talented participants who contributed to the success of this competition. A special thank you goes to our esteemed judges, Mary Jean Chan and Prof. Stuart Christie, for carefully selecting these outstanding works.
to the German Fiancé i’ve never met before
Charisse Hue
because i was a little girl
i was born with a family name
colour
and two X chromosomes —
Xanthous from my mom
and Xenophobia from my Dad.
because i was three, He demonstrated with Lego.
Xanthous and Xenophobia
full of potent
ial on their own
collects dust when combined.
because i was a little girl
i was afraid of marriage.
of letting our name melt away into a stranger’s
like a drop of paint
into the gray ocean —
the last borders of colour
dissolved in nothingness.
because i was five, He bought a crayon.
Colour (a beautiful label from generations of Men
Fame
my Great-Grandfather the Rider who whipped Black Beauty with his name
Erupt
my Grandfather the Teacher who taught the world history of Europe
Money
my Father the Journalist who interviewed fair figures
who punched into my skin the useful mnemonic)
within the black lines.
because i was a little girl
i hugged faint scribbles close
and mapped out plans in my sparkly notebook
to remove one gene from my body
or erase my name from the world.
foolish:
Father chose the Herr for her
long before she turned thirteen —
you mockery of what i might have been.
do not say anything unlucky during the holidays
Jessica Chan
my mother reminds me, so the lotus paste clings safe in my mouth.
how not to say, hey, this could be the last mooncake we’re sharing.
what if one day i tear out of this seat and find myself
landing feet-first on the asphalt. what if
at the turnstile i turn right back around.
how not to say my desire is sharper than that knife.
that i have never asked for another moon.
how not to say, imagine you at my family dinners.
how unlucky, my desire.
more animal than any moon.
imagine how good it would feel, to pretend not to want something,
and my mother takes the knife and gives me that last piece anyway.
Winner’s commentary: Just two lines short of a modern sonnet, Chan’s moving poem lingers on the unsaid in a familial setting rife with silence, with vivid lines such as “how not to say my desire is sharper than that knife”. The judges admired the poet’s use of imagery, moving deftly from “mooncake” to “moon”, from the threat of forbidden desire to the mother’s knife that cuts “last piece” which is given lovingly to the speaker. Repetition is used to great effect as the speaker asks “how” they might exist amidst the strictures of home and society, and begins in this powerful poem to offer an answer. – Mary Jean Chan
YRF 2026 – School Bookings NOW OPEN!
Oct 30, 2025
ANNOUNCING YRF 2026!
We are very happy to be sharing our latest Young Readers Festival lineup with students and educators across Hong Kong.
What to expect:
29 Speakers
19 International Speakers
10 Local Speakers
6 Speakers offering talks in Chinese
Graphic Novels, Battle of the Books Authors, Story Slam, Poetry Contest, Creative Workshops, Inspirational Talks, and so much more!
See full details on our YRF 2026 Page.
Bookings close 30 January 2026