THE WRITERS POST

(ISSN: 1527-5467)
the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation.

VOLUME 8 NUMBER 1

JAN 2006

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NGUYEN PHAN THINH

__________________________________

 

†††††††††††† two poems by NGUYEN PHAN THINH

translated by the author

 

 

 

starting from logos

 

†††† and then they didnít call one another

†††† they forgot

†††† they forgot to call

†††† they forgot their voices

†††† they forgot one another

 

†††† they ran

†††† they pushed

†††† they stamped on one another

†††† in a dark tunnel

†††† like running rats

 

†††† they shrieked

†††† they screamed

†††† they forgot their words

†††† they lived a throat

†††† and they lived two legs

 

†††† at the far end of the tunnel

†††† the gate was locked

†††† they fell down

†† crying and bursting out

†† a human voice

 

†††† all are strangers

†††† a new people

†††† each person a language

†††† uh--ah

†††† in the dark tunnel

 

††† and in hunger and thirst

†††† they ate human flesh

†††† they ate one another

 

†††† seasons went by

†††† the earth had more caves

†††† of moles

 

††††††††††† †††††††††††††††††††††††††††††

in silence, Dalat

†††††††††††††††††††††††

†† I could say nothing

†† the old pack horse was thoughtful

†† on the crumbling hillside

†† bare pine stumps facing the sky

†† eternal blue

†† weeping blues

†† raindrops during the helpless night

 

†† though I so much desired, my dear

†† to tell about some secret joy

†† to you at dusk

†† the stars came with the night

†† so close and on your hair

†† glittering was the fragrance of fairy tales

†† the myth was dead

 

†† our lives, the feet of the hills

†† the endless slopes

††††††††††† ††††††† sometimes up the hills we went

††††††††††† ††††††† so hard like today to the very top

††††† †††††††††††††††††††the high sky and thefaraway earth

love filled our eyes with tears

in the magic of time

 

and of nature

and of void

and of winds

and of young leaves

and of clouds

and of the evening star

and of everything I couldnít say

 

†† silent and still were the feet of the hills

†† the hillsides were more

†† the top of the hill was the most

†† of us as fragile

†† as two grains of dust

†† as two grains of dust from the stars

†† shining with desperate wishes

 

†† of love to be humans

†† we couldnít understand

†† under the silence of the sky

†† the secret holy power of breath

†† as life sweeping over the hillsides

†† in rain we quietly cried

†† beside the old orphan pack horse

 

††††††††††† NGUYEN PHAN THINH

 

 

 

The Writers Post
the magazine of literature

& literature-in-translation,

founded 1999, based in the US.

 

VOLUME 8 ISSUE 1 JAN 2006

 

Editorial note: Works published in this issue are simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge magazine (ISSN: 1540-1723).

Copyright © Nguyen Phan Thinh 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.

 

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