By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm What I’ve learned from attempting to try to build an index of author/artist bio was that it’s not easy work. The majority don’t want me to share their bio, perhaps it is their insecurity, or perhaps it is a security issue. I’ve translated close to 2000 works by so many […]
Beyond the clouds, blue
The pieces of you.
Trên những hàng mây, xanh
Những mảnh ghép lại là anh.
translated by Lê Vĩnh Tài “Các bậc phụ huynh kính mến, Kỳ thi của các em học sinh đang tới gần. Chúng tôi biết rằng các vị đều đang mong cho con mình sẽ giành được kết quả cao trong kỳ thi này. Tuy nhiên, xin hãy nhớ rằng, trong số các em, những người […]
Upon my lips
Cut the line.
It all began with a top. That’s right, my youth was an idyllic entanglement? No, more perhaps glimpses of the back of a blue top departing a train station draped in a misty downpour that had swept across Saigon years ago.
There are things that breaks
shards of glass
the pieces makes.
Beyond the refinement of humanity are the discernable.
translation into English by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm The unspeakable/unspoken words in one’s heart
Into the pitch-black side of the forest, the Sun disappeared, abandoning half the world in consuming darkness, maraud, on the move the bloody hunt began. Leaning into the darkness for power the hunters’ devices death, and those weaker only have one choice: Hide!
“The artist wanders the streets, suddenly finds they can’t remember one single street name…”
it bleeds poisonous lead
through your veins the exhaust fuel your shit.
Vì mình nhỡ chuyến tầu về xuôi
Nên người yêu đã đi xa rồi
Vọng về đây ngẩn ngơ tiếng còi chìm dần nơi xa
Chậm một giây, tầu rời bến
Đứng nhìn theo bánh lăn vô tình
Còn gì đâu hỡi ơi bóng hình người em thân yêu
I can’t seem to control myself when it comes to the vernacular of a newly discovered poet. My curiosity gets the better of me.
Amongst his manly words, the work of an interesting American-Vietnamese poet.
Introducing my first translation of Nguyễn Hàn Chung, the epitome of the poet’s inner pondering and ego.
khi anh trai tôi
trở về từ chiến tranh
trên trán của anh có một ngôi sao bằng bạc
và dưới ngôi sao
là vực thẳm
It has be an active year of blogging on my part, thank you for being there for me. I will be on hiatus for the month of June.
May peace and joy dwell in your home.
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
remember when I typed your name
on the screen
the print disappeared from one page to the next
we have upon the lips of strangers kissed
left the scent of us
at the tip of my tongue, your name
where children are turned into flaming torches
where bees are turned into weapons
where wild birds are turned into warriors
the droopy brows of the poem, its eyes
the flare of a sword’s blade
the undefined teeth marks
as it bites
please don’t worry about complimenting this poem
the tragedy of a good heart
the cause of our confusion
From a mother’s missed calculation
To a father’s recklessness
You were born
Through the cracks of betrayal and resentment you grew up