Categories
SHORT STORIES/TRUYỆN NGẮN

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm |”forty days and forty nights” (95)

“Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?”

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

“Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?”*

Within my constraints and what remains of my self-respect I am silent. How fickle is my love. I am disheveled and alone. My mind is a maze of such thoughts, it has always been.

It was a corner table I think, you weren’t alone. You were laughing, from a glance above my book I saw you. The child in kindergarten perhaps, rolling a tiny motor car across the edge of the table. As for her, she was holding onto your wrist, left hand, trying to make a point. The simple matching gold bands, they were lovely.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be that young. I don’t remember ever living my thirties. I don’t remember brushing my hair, except for that time I’m on the train wearing my top inside out, the humiliation still fresh. Yet there you were, immaculate. I am in contrast, an insult.

The pathetic sadness of me ending up as a cliché, even the tears I’m shedding are not worthy.

Forty days, forty nights Jesus did fast in the desert. Could I be more arrogant in comparing myself to Him. But here I am. I will fast in the silence of you.

March 9th, 2021

*W. Shakespeare

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

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

2 replies on “Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm |”forty days and forty nights” (95)”

nobody taught me
what’s behind the word of love
she means those who believe in her
of reality in all things chaste and noble

I hurry to the last gate
I have a lot to my shame
offends the dignity of others

my thoughts in the garden of the soul
I did not breed myself
grow up out of all my limbs

the pain of repentance
not even thought and wanted
a torture a horror
gone for decades

not the mark of Cain from others
burned into my soul

of the one who once said
he would take upon himself the sins of the world

before this cliché I could
do not bend the commanded knee
nor this man of the word
trust only one of his words

I carry my sins through life
without asking be Jesus about it

Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s