The Canadian-Vietnamese poet born in Hue, Vietnam 1942, currently resides in Montreal, Canada
—
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.
The Canadian-Vietnamese poet born in Hue, Vietnam 1942, currently resides in Montreal, Canada
—
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.
The Canadian-Vietnamese poet currently resides in Montreal, Canada
The Canadian-Vietnamese poet currently resides in Quebec, Canada
—
d r i n k
l e t t h e r e d w i n e f l o w
rescue
this blue
blue heart
down-on-the-level
at the bottom
of this crazy
m e s m e r i z i n g
pool of sludge
The Canadian-Vietnamese poet currently resides in Quebec, Canada
—
Poetry. it’s always alone, on its own?
poetry in the middle of the market
the merging of villages
We are all simply the green chlorophyll which nurtures a safe journey. None in us are superhuman
Us all. And all that is us!
The Canadian-Vietnamese poet currently resides in Quebec, Canada
—
I came to see her a little bewildered
my identification forgotten in a safe at the hotel
I’m not exactly a visitor
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
Hoàng Xuân Sơn is a Canadian-Vietnamese poet, currently resides in Quebec, Canada.
—
[ after being imbued with martial law and fundamental rights ]
The smell of sleep
hints of footprints long gone
the poem stuck in a draw
still a brand-new river of white brilliance
Listen to the sea afternoon
drag away with it the memories
the footprints on the sand
the pits left behind by bombs in the forest
the pools full of tears
the fresh mud and devastation
I’m addicted to kopi luwak, the civet morning droppings
[ imagined that, sounds great doesn’t it ]
what money, let alone Asian palm civet
dear god. so are the days of our lives
picking up the pieces
Saigon’s fresh dew
at the 5th and 7th intersection
now besides the massacred trees
the tall looming buildings squashing the tiny shop fronts, toadstools on the pavement
to each corner of the world the resignation
the faces
the wandering souls(since)
the consuming reflections
our thoughtful journey
don’t forget
the mist
asleep beneath the afternoon
shall awaken the moon
more or less
by the roots
of one’s hair
Diana là một ca khúc phổ thông viết bởi Joe Sherman và Paul Anka năm 1957, thu thanh lần đầu cùng năm bởi Paul Anka tại New York city. Ca khúc này được xếp hạng cao từ lúc thành hình và vẫn còn thịnh hành trong lĩnh vực trình diễn cho đến ngày hôm nay nhờ nhạc điệu, tiết tấu vui nhộn (Twist) với ca từ bình dân, giản dị.
Người chuyển ngữ ca khúc này sang tiếng Việt xin được liên tưởng đến một nhân vật thời thượng cùng tên (đã khuất), có nhiều huyền thoại vây quanh: Lady Di, Diana, Princess of Wales . . .
Với lời lẽ ca cẩm hơi vui tếu một chút:
you won’t be able to hear the tinkling sound of music
rinse and dry
adding salt to the wound
the fire high at its peaking
level of dire straits
I received not a word of kindness from anyone
the suspicion in where are you going
the chill of the cold shoulder steadily seeping sound
between those dogging each other at the border
the pain and devastation
me questioning even the heart of a child
when there’s nothing left but adamant darkness
After seventy five. A father from the North came to see, and visit a son in prison
Father: How did you end up as such a despicable soldier, a puppet?
Son: It’s a new world father, now you can separate the thugs?!
Full stop.
“Vẽ ai mặt ngó quen quen Chữ điền vuông vức lá quên che đời” Hoàng Xuân Sơn Colour pencil sketch
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KwIDQgfozTHFkcw9Hr9EFC9JMtyevdoj/view?usp=drivesdk
A snow freckleface
taking up half of a hallow spirit
with one sole purpose through time
stripping the liberty of those in the streets
assault on battery
corpses, thrown upon the dead
[losses on both sides]
the threats of death in righteousness
an artefact upon
a cutting-edge era
