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THE WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467) VOLUME 12 NUMBER 1 JAN 2010 |
NGUYEN THI THANH BINH __________________________________________ a poem
by NGUYEN THI THANH BINH translated
by Nguyen Ngoc Bich Claiming my right to being a nitwit No, I ain’t going to waste my time caviling with God Playing into the hands of a fella who loves kneading statues Me who even in my worst moments of despair Too late anyway Entertain a second of blindness Coming and going, whereto Unable to fix my direction In this saharic confusion of Life * What has God done with his lump of clay? What have I done in a wink of time? No, I don’t wish to remember The moths of Destiny No, I don’t wish to think of you either A wisp of smoke, a thread of cloud, a dewy breath, a ripple of wave... (so be it!) And of course there is no changing this chance meeting Into a glorious eternity * That day so recent now so far away That place where there were smiling lips Reflecting the jellow of night Leaves whirling deep into a dark pool of sensitivity Flower secrets of accumulating moon streams In between my legs is your jail You go on sucking on the sacred grove Rasping thirst after trails of kisses * In your sorcerer’s hands I feel like an army of apprentices In this game of destiny I have the right to dumbly love numberless men without sinning Since God had blown into his lump of clay A chilly wind that will last a thousand years... NGUYEN THI THANH BINH The Writers Post &
literature-in-translation, founded 1999,
based in the US. Copyright © Nguyen Ngoc Bich & The Writers Post 2009. Copyright for the original © Nguyen Thi Thanh Binh. Nothing in this magazine may be downloaded, distributed, or reproduced without the permission of the author/ translator/ artist/ The Writers Post/ and Wordbridge magazine. Creating links to place The Writers Post or any of its pages within other framesets or in other documents is copyright violation, and is not permitted. |
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