The Smoothly White Stork
by Tran Dang Khoa
When the rain darkens the east
When the rain darkens the west
When the rain darkens the south and the north
You still see
A stork
Smoothly white
Flying outside to greet the rain…
The rice plants are elated like raised flags
The potatoes grow fresh green leaves
The areca palms open up to collect the raindrops
The croaking frogs are festive
The fish are dancing
But nobody knows that
The stork
Hugging itself
Braves the cold
Upon a tree branch…
Until the rain once again darkens the east, the west
Until the rain once again darkens the south, the north
You will once again see
That very same stork
Flying outside
Smoothly white
To welcome the rain…
1969
On the high hill
by Nguyen Binh Phuong
Translated by Hoang Trang Hai
Don’t remind me
of tight streams of bullets
collapsed bunkers, smashed pieces
hurling, dashing in all directions
everyone has come to rest
they are listening to the children’s noises along the alluvial bank
as on many afternoons, the sun falls hurriedly
it is the faraway afternoon sunlight, easy river Quay
Don’t remind me of the burning bayonets
wounds that have been brought back to this world
don’t make too much of incense and smoke or they’ll be confused
peace does not require the shadow of the Bodhi
they are Bodhi tree, immense and ageless
cold tombstones could not hold them
cast sandal,
bare head
AK in hand
mouth like fire
hair like fire
countenance hovering like fire
remember the young woman friend who cried in the rain
Don’t remind me, please, don’t remind me
they return
on the high hill
in the moon
wave after wave yet alone
grave with grave with grave with grave.
Life beyond reach
by Nguyen Binh Phuong
The sleepwalker stops amidst the sky
standing above all sleeps
sunlight thunders in the orange
the sleepwalker searches for sunlight
Where the moon drops its light
the body strikes a note of rouge
the sleepwalker searches for body
which is lost in enthralling quietude
Quietude matted beside the highway
bewildered like the upside-down boat on shore
the sleepwalker crosses the sea on his breath
sensitive fingers are his oars
Under a larger-than-sunrise flag
the finisher takes a life-long sleep
the sleepwalker cannot reach this life
Non-sleepwalker forever gazes at the sky.
In Viet Nam, victims in a highway accident are usually covered with a sedge mat.
Whisper
by Nguyen Binh Phuong
Through the small tunnel
he is returning
Out there
the bridge and the moon co-shine
serene strip
have curtained along river banks
You and the days
are so lost in the sky
The wooden horse is sick
so are the old memories it seems
flower still waits for me
only dream has fallen asleep
Through the small tunnel
he is returning
Thousands of snow-white wings
fluttering in the night forest
Ocean arrives from afar
and places a hovering chair amidst the night
Through the small tunnel
he returns again