and all the aspect of sadness
the sombreness of the rain
tries to endure the fading eternity
the height of age-old talentless delusions
thought it could persevere.
but in conclusion
in itself disappears

and all the aspect of sadness
the sombreness of the rain
tries to endure the fading eternity
the height of age-old talentless delusions
thought it could persevere.
but in conclusion
in itself disappears
You shall walk alone in the dark
Tripping on your own thoughts
To after rise
Beneath the Sunlight
You will set free the truth
Allowing the vines of others to latch onto
The souls you’ll find
Residing in the Clouds and the Leaves
you touch it
and know its eyelids
made of coral
more beautiful than jade
you drank
straight from the bottle
but choking a little on the poetry
it in a scuffle fell, broke
into shards
cutting the skin
hence each time you want to love
you bleed
to death…
tôi là người ích kỷ
duy tâm
tôi không thể nhìn thấy gì
nhưng độ cong của đường chân trời
rực rỡ như sự rạng rỡ của bạn
—
I can see nothing
but the curvature of the glowing horizon
the dawning of you.
possibly the inspiration for a million poems
straight up
you must note the moment
the poem is leaning
it’s when the poem expires
tries to lean
to further the romance
you dream of being
the coroner
the slippery human fate
surrounded by no one
escapes no one
you know
it’s not the sea
but all the fields are now
in pitch darkness
stricken
silent…
hãy học, học cách tử tế, bạn yêu
hãy học cách để tôi tự do
hãy giải phóng tôi
đơn giản là
tâm hồn yêu thương của tôi luôn biết bạn là ai
tôi bay một đoạn dài
vượt qua vách núi vút cao của đất trời
trong túi xách của tôi
là tình yêu của bạn
dành cho tôi…
—
learn, learn my dear
learn how to set me free
just be
the loving soul I know you are
I thus heed
—
across the precipice of heaven and earth
in my bag pack,
your love for me.
By Charles Wright, translation into Vietnamese by Lê Vĩnh Tài “Thế Giới Này Không Phải Của Tôi, Tôi Chỉ Đi Qua” Càng nói nhiều, bạn càng lảm nhảm vì vậy hãy thật đơn giản. Không ai đến mà không sớm bỏ đi. Thế giới mắt màu xanh, bàn chân màu xanh này, nàng ơi, […]
an anthem for the forgotten
for those abandoned by their country
died at sea, in re-education camps
you’re always bored
your fingers agitated
with intent
till sadness
drips from your skin like sweat
tears
even with both eyes blind, glorious is terror
keep writing
not so incapacitated
that my love you think it’s like death
and we shall think of love
as the length of a roll of rope
and the last twist
not only are our hands tied
not only did we fly
loved
and together fell…
the poem
it’s already the past
and every afternoon
it would bleed our monthly drops of blood
in places you’ve been…
you ask yourself now and then
flying forever in a room
full of plastic flowers
one lonely hand
reached out
pulled me back
into my own darkness
what did I think when I was eighteen
the expeditions without a sound
just whistle warnings
the endless afternoons running
now I’m twenty-one
living on an empty piece of land
letting myself wander inside a cage
to silence the soul I drank, I smoked
now every day I look for the sea
on the map
hoping to find a sail
or hear the oar
rowing in tears
brimming
clear water…
how could you not know that I love
the glaring night sharp prickly and sad
numbing pain in each ray of morning light
the orange-yellow laced with lonely purple