THE WRITERS POST
VOLUME 8 NUMBER 1
MAI VAN PHAN
three poems by MAI VAN PHAN
translated by Do Xuan Oanh
my mind wanted to guide the mouse creeping out from narrow sewer
to courteously crawl into garbage bucket and lie dead tidily
garbage truck would bring the mice away to bury
Forever the city would have no mice.
Another way of thinking :
Scoop water in Hai Phong port
Water turned itself clean
Itself bottled and rolled into restaurants, hotels…
Poor people come there to collect money.
I was consecrated phenomenon
photo published on cover page
entertained until dead drunk.
You or five or seven girls helped me home ?
Caught a glimpse of somebody cycling in narrow alley
Or tens of thousands actors performing amid the square ?
Never exert oneself to speak about confidence and hope
when crossing narrow door slit
sea wind was shooting in each arrow pleasantly fresh.
Aware would survive
The house of hamlet chief had a road
pierce into its front door.
Open fortune-telling book to consult
there might be disaster.
The book also said
in item Mole
page 267 third line from down up…
hinting those who flirt and court…
A mole on left eye of the girl collecting electricity fees was identified
being caught in the act last night
hugging and kissing hamlet chief in the dog meat pub…
“Minutes were made into 5 copies
of equal juridical value”.
Old man owner of dog meat pub knew too many things
questioned by other people
forced to give statement during five hours
back to gateway got violent scold from the wife
Silver haired and still stupid !
The old man felt bitter at the nose
choked with anger to the neck
but thinking it over
found it too true
stealthily drank a few cups of alcohol
went out to the yard looking at sunshine.
Next time aware only keep in mind
What for speak out.
Rhythm of autumn return
Autumn dropped thousands and thousands of ferry boats
Breathing rhythmical the dipping water sound
An invisible rower leaned on my shoulder
Both river banks trembled thumping
Rain drop broke from dream in summer
Leaf of grass rose to welcome each gulp shilly-shally
Dead leaves decayed, soul rushed to the top
Heaven returned to eye hollow in melting dew.
It certainly was so close from here to that shore
But why did it flutter throughout autumn
Who fainted to beauty of flower infatuated
Making that ferry boat return for searching.
MAI VAN PHAN
The Writers Post
founded 1999, based in the US.
Editorial note: Works published in this issue are simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge magazine (ISSN: 1540-1723).
Copyright © Mai Van Phan 2006. 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.