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POETRY/THƠ

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm | My Vernacular (33)

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
—–
While you were playing God (not Morgan Freeman)
I roamed the campus, a spectre of my youth.
I wanted to be you

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

My Vernacular

The age before you made legos of words.

My father wanted a boy.

With no package, he left me in my mother’s arms.

Your pubescent years singing sugary poetry

Chasing skirts, fighting our enemies

At sea on a boat, me

You deep in poetry seasoned with life.

My head in the clouds

Feet deep in trigonometry  

While you were playing God (not Morgan Freeman)

I roamed the campus, a spectre of my youth.

I wanted to be you

Knocked on the doors of the creator

“So are the days of our lives.”

We made families, didn’t we?

And so on and so on so forth. 

Blah blah blah

What’s the point of chopping down trees, the forest on fire

To further an ego in printed books.

No one could ever douse our blinding light. (wink)

19 December 2019

(tặng LVT)

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

There's magic in translating a body of work from one language to another.

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