by Do Mai Hoa

The voyage on a ship called The
Mysteries Vastly, water and water
Layers, mountains and mountains

Approaching nothingness and reality
to discover that your everlasting existence in memory is so unconscious!
Will we be conscious of the forgetfulness?
approaching life and death
to see that human’s ultimate desire will eventually become so little
What will this world become if people live without desire?!
After many contacts What is left?!

Farewell sunset
next to the cup of coffee that is nectarous the flavor of you
on the deck waiting for the dawn
as if who will come out of that far deep ocean?!

Winter sea
Just me and the ocean wave behind the ship…

by Do Mai Hoa

There’s only I still staying up with the
night so proud, face against the pillow…
waiting for dawn to bring me a man
who knows about love the love the sky meant for the
ground evergreen…

Oh, my man
Where are
you
Why don’t you come find
me Tonight,
Just tonight
only, we make
love
You haven’t been born or haven’t been reborn once more I shall wait…
Like I have many times stayed up all night long waiting for the dawn

Coward?
No!
Just not dare to stay honest

by Do Mai Hoa

Unable to see pothole or flower-pot-
hole The street shining with water
Hanoi flooded…
Even the dawn surrounded by clouds and
rains Memories of you inflated!

How can I be brave?
to climb over bunches of unconscious
barriers when the heart fluttering
Could it be that the unconscious wins in the marathon chase
fluffy Saturday floating on the street
Why don’t we moor each
other? Morning coffee…?
Conscience remembers to answer: Busy
Weekend, a good housewife has tasks to
do Lunch presented
some say
handy some
say what a
wife
yet handy in serenity even when the husband forgets his duty Swallow sorrow down into the smile…

Morning coffee…?
Rivalry between unconscious and
conscious Broken crystal pieces
Pieces of happiness like the color of earth!

by Do Mai Hoa

Color shades of light – dark
You picked up the clouds and put them in
the paintings The sun a faraway blur
mountains and rivers Sunset or sunrise
the color of pale grass?

I’m living these days
without regret for having
waited
At the end of a busy day comes a dream of being a
princess You – thou not that young anymore to be a
prince
Doesn’t matter, wishes come true

Behind those drawing lines is your hand so
slender is the regret of youth
The prince of many girls when I am not even
born not even knowing to try on those glass
shoes…

Your paintings are all the sunrises
Where the elite of earth – sky unite
Where mounts, rivers and souls wandering on every line
drawn by the brush There’s a look
comes after the trace of
memory… moor me!