With Friends

by Tran Nhuan Minh

Nothing’s sadder than no longer having friends
Friends will live with me even when I’ve left this world
Many good friends will eventually die before me
Having no friend is akin to living an orphan’s life

Where’s the “bag of wisdom”? How can I learn if
The friends whom I meet and deem good turn out to be bad?
The moment I love and trust them is when I’m easily fooled
Even when my hair’s turned gray, I’m still very much naive…

Perhaps I should compose poetry? Throwing myself into
the battlefield with swords by letters formed
At times, I’m caught in the middle when my friends fight
But the wounds will heal. Death has yet to come
Because I’ve yet to start composing my last poem…