Lê Vĩnh Tài, an acclaimed Vietnamese poet, born 1966 in Buon Ma Thuot, Daklak, Vietnam. The retired doctor is still a resident of the Western Highlands, an acclaimed businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.
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Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the poet and translator, born 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.
Thanh Tâm Tuyền (1936-2006), born Dzư Văn Tâm in the province of Vinh, Vietnam. The legendary Vietnamese-American poet after 1975, did 7 years in re-education camp, before taking his final breath in Minnesota, America.
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Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the poet and translator, born 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.
Lê Vĩnh Tài is a Vietnamese poet, a resident of the West Highlands. A retired medical doctor, currently an acclaimed businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.
—
The original epic poem was published in 2015, and I had began the translation of Tibet by Lê Vĩnh Tài mid July 2019, it took me more than two years to fully finalised and published the translation on #songngutaitram .
I’m hoping to one day get the opportunity to read this incredible poem for you live.
—
you stand
silent
a mountain imposing
into the clouds biting
two arms two wings
flying…
_____
người đứng
lặng im
sừng sững như một ngọn núi
cắn vào mây
hai tay hai cánh
bay…
—
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the poet and translator, born 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.
Lê Vĩnh Tài is a Vietnamese poet, a resident of the West Highlands. A retired medical doctor, currently an acclaimed businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.
—
Reading Shattered into warm rain was the moment I fell in love with Lê Vĩnh Tài’s poetry.
Lê Vĩnh Tài is a Vietnamese poet, a resident of the West Highlands. A retired medical doctor, currently an acclaimed businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.
—
The translation has taken two years to complete, I hope you enjoy the final edit.
(July 2021)
April 30, 1975
—
A translation for my children.
us moving forward a step
cause not pain
cause not sinking thoughts
words in aid of black hair
black eyes
black skin
and what is more black than that
They are tall because we are kneeling
Mother’s heart is vast as the Pacific Ocean…
but as Mother kneel down, we could then see the prayers
as Mother kneel down, we could then see the value of tears
we could then hear the cries
perhaps Mother’s head in slightly up or down
perhaps Mother’s head is falling
her eyes closed or not
but that is the prayer of all prayers
Did you not know?
Or have you never had a Mother?
the H’mong people
black, flowers, white, red…
obstinate. drifting into the South
fought for the thousand of years
their gun barrel their gut
never open their lips to beg
eat without a future. war with no fear of death
won
lost
earnest through the tweets of whistling leaves
found each other
leaves fallen in piles beneath thy feet
abundant as the rocks in the valley
gosh thee
by each other in caves make love
by each other to finality drank
by each other consumed the red chook eggs
by each other in communal marriage
by each other brothers
by each other fought
by each other as wives captured
by each other forgiven, yearned
loved…
days like these
poetry is a scar
in the heart of the people
_____
những ngày này
thơ như vết thương
giữa lòng dân tộc
poetry is a failure
apologised poetry
in tiring wordless smoke(and mirrors)
we’re sinking
poetry also sinking
by a remaining sail
lingering thoughts of her near sheer dress on that autumn day.
a little hot
the waves, mountains, valleys
poetry couldn’t but ogle
tried to look away searched then
for the sea
poetry dear god
nearly driven her mad.
_____
thơ thất bại
lời xin lỗi của thơ bằng khói
nó mệt mỏi
chúng ta chìm xuống
và thơ chìm xuồng
chỉ còn một cánh buồm
lấp ló áo em ngày thu hơi mỏng.
hơi nóng
khi núi đồi xuất hiện
và thơ cứ giả vờ căng mắt tìm
kiếm
một bờ biển
thơ
làm nàng muốn điên.
that’s where
the mountain lookout at the sea
where
a boy
came
lay listening to
summer
counting
millions and millions of people dead
under his breath
amusing himself
alone.
_____
đó là nơi
núi nhìn ra biển
nơi
một cậu bé
đến
nằm nghe
mùa hè
đếm
triệu triệu người đã chết
thì thầm
làm trò chơi
của riêng mình.
the nation is a maternity ward
we’re all pregnant
physically pregnant
spiritually pregnant
but gosh why are we giving birth
to fleas
then again
From where else could they come?
Did they suddenly
appear out of nowhere?
Like rain?
Like tears?
the country is pregnant
each night, mother puts us to bed
the fleas would begin
their celebrations
after drinking like sucking blood
They speak of love.
Srepok river
flowing
met the sorrow of a dam
your mother did not give you a name
she instead tucked away all the rhymes
inside her recollection
for you
the poem, you use it
to travel
wherever
people may try to bid and bargain
you know that even
rhymes, like the shoes
you wear on the street
after the times you’ve found
customers, those who like to buy
and evade tax when they sell
you
like a tree after a storm
the wind can make you
sick in the stomach
you end up with gastritis
go home
in an ambulance, thus many things may
wet you
no one to check or confiscate
your mother will place a dream in your heart
through mystics slips
once or twice
each night, dreams in a tiny room
causing your chest to shrink
like the rhymes and words
in a poem, consolidated, each and every night
and yet you’re thinking about
how every morning you’re waken
by your children crying
Mothers are the source of life
not just something
one dwell on
who vouch for you
when the wind is high
grey skies
and it’s wet.
By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
—
“Những ý tưởng sai lầm luôn kết thúc bằng đổ máu, nhưng trong mọi trường hợp, đó là máu của người khác. Đây là lý do tại sao các nhà tư tưởng của chúng ta thoải mái nói về mọi thứ.”
—
“Mistaken ideas always end in bloodshed, but in every case it is someone else’s blood. This is why our thinkers feel free to say just about everything.”
Albert Camus
By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
—
Far
very far
forsaken alone
where no one could touch you
like a child in its mother’s womb
but each of your movements
is noticed by all
like blood rushing through veins
you feel
like toes of a baby
safely hidden
rippling beneath its mother’s skin
then one day
one day
early
very early
you will touch
the love of this entire nation
_____
rất xa
bạn cô đơn một mình
không ai có thể chạm vào được
như em bé nằm bên trong tử cung của Mẹ
nhưng các cử động của bạn
mọi người vẫn nhận biết
như mạch máu vẫn chảy
bạn chỉ cảm thấy
như các ngón chân của em bé
được giấu an toàn
nhô lên dưới lớp da bụng Mẹ
rồi một ngày
một ngày
sớm
thật sớm
bạn sẽ chạm vào
tình yêu của cả đất nước này
By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
_____
death
are not furrows in the field
it’s a small sail
drifting across the moon
grazing the moon
to after, sinking
as a small cloud
like her also small
tiny tiny
death
rapid in its return
while no one is waiting
it seems
to slide down right next to each one of us
when he rammed into our home
through the gate
one sunny afternoon.
_____
cái chết
không phải là con mương ngoài cánh đồng
nó như một cánh buồm nhỏ
trôi ngang mặt trăng
nó chạm vào mặt trăng
sau đó, có một hình ảnh sẽ chìm
như đám mây nhỏ
và nàng cũng nhỏ
xíu xiu
cái chết
quay lại quá sớm
khi không ai chờ đợi
nó dường như
trượt xuống bên cạnh mỗi chúng ta
khi anh ấy húc tăng vào nhà
qua cánh cổng
sau buổi trưa đầy nắng.
By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
—
dust
why force humanity
on them?
_____
bụi
sao lại cố ép chúng
thành người?
By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
_____
we collide and break
through the fragility of life
we collide and hurt
within the tightness of sadness
when dreams make the heart withdraw
love collides with all of our being and we…
SONGNGUTAITRAM 