In the sixteenth century, there was a Portuguese fleet. The fleet sailed around Indian and proceeded northward along the coast of the Eastern land. Perhaps it was a morning, the wind on the Pacific Ocean seemed visible in the morning light and the sea fog. And golden dust was raised by the wind.
The fleet sailed through the sea fog like through a door. A sailor gazed at the front indistinctly, but he could hear the sound of seagulls and that of waves hitting the rocks and the rushing sound which was not produced by the sea wind. Gradually he saw the outline…
“Ilha Formosa！”, the sailor shouted.
——A corner of a floating island, as if in a fabled abode of immortals, was unveiled before the travelers.
Was the anchoring a beautiful mistake? Were the travelers returned people or passers-by?
No one knew.
However, from that day on, an island had been drawn with great care on the parchment of the Portuguese map maker Lopo Homem. “Formosa” was gifted to the beautiful island which is now called as Taiwan as its name. The appellation was so splendid that Portuguese seemed to praise the brightest and the most beautiful maiden.
From that day on, the different shades of blue of the seawater at Kenting, the overlapping green mountains of Taroko Gorge, the winding trains over hill and dale and the overhanging eaves which were secluded and alone had all become Taiwan images. Even the lingering cold rain and intoxicating fragrance of the flowers on the island and the soft tone of the local people had become people’s impressions on Taiwan. In the eyes of the world, Taiwan is tender, graceful, gentle, missish, reserved and sweet.
From that day on, Taiwan had become bright and clear.
Then you knew that Formosa was not beyond your heart anymore.