Categories
PHOTOGRAPHY POETRY/THƠ

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm | nothing at all (166)

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

Rustling in the canopy
The sigh of an owl
Some things are never allowed

The trickling sweat down your spine
Salty upon lips never mine

Fall short of the chill of winter
Your arms holding her.

I.
I know not to say
But if I may
Lay upon a whisper
The meaning of nothing at all.

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

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

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