Submit a comment
The tilapia cuts into the thunderous dream/The rice fields still bear the traces of her hard-working footsteps/The houses are lined with chessboards along the crisscrossing roads/The bamboo fences of the village seem to be there and yet not there...
The tilapia cuts into the lightning dream
The field still bears the marks of her hard-working footsteps.
Chessboard houses along the crisscrossing streets
The bamboo groves in the village seem to be there and yet not there.
The Lao wind blows the May sun
Mother's sweat soaked the dry, cracked mud
Where the fragrant straw smoke of the alley
Malabar spinach dyed purple in the age of full moon
I stopped this afternoon on the deserted slope
The pomelo tree's shadow still anchors in Dinh hamlet
Bridge down to the market one more time change place
One more time I'm in debt, village!
NGUYEN HUY
