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PHOTOGRAPHY POETRY/THƠ

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm | A time of Age (77)

a bomb

In the wind your cool adage
upon dusk
the sorrow of your dying light

In the specks of falling dust
your power, your might

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

 

A time of Age

[ Currently, the poem is a Guest Post on DiosRaw ]

 

A time of Age

a bomb

 

In the wind your cool adage

upon dusk 

the sorrow of your dying light

 

In the specks of falling dust 

your power, your might

 

Into their lungs, they inhaled it

Covet it

In copies and repetitions

They hate you, but you’re their religion

 

The sincerity of a pounding waterfall

The realization at dawn

 

You are the spawn

of the soul

you’re bold

your story told

the stories so old

 

In their reflection

they’ve totally forgotten.

 

 

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

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

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