Only the fear virus is eternally so much different, it feasts on lips, parasites on tongue, lies on every unexpectedly shuffled version.
[author title=”Ngo Duc Hanh” image=”https://sindhcourier.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/Poet-Ngo-Duc-Hanh-Vietnam-Sindh-Courier.jpg”]Poet/Journalist Ngo Duc Hanh was born in 1960 in Ha Tinh province, Central part of Vietnam. He is bachelor of journalism. He currently lives in Hanoi and works as the Deputy Editor in Chief – Vietnam Bridge and Road Magazine. He also works as the managing editor for the Literature and Arts newspaper. He is also member of Vietnam Writers’ Association and Hanoi Writers’ Association. His published books are “Our homeland folksong” (2015), “Dried straw road” and “Night ballad” (2017), “Concept” and “The sing to find you” (2019), “Another Ballad” (2020). [/author]
Corona
Could not expect that I came from another world
World of sneeze
Make million noses run
The starting place is lending page
You may find the vaccine
Destroy corona virus
The cause may be found started from the snake
Cauldron of bats
But inefficient before the virus of fear
You may not believe
That in my heart, corona has chosen to stay
You may save me
By devoted kiss
Don’t think I belonged to you
Could not exist, if
One day
You don’t mind waking me up
Wake corona up by the sweet tender lips
Only the fear virus is eternally so much different
It feasts on lips
Parasites on tongue
Lies on every unexpectedly shuffled versions
The world is afraid of a person’s sneeze
A group of people
A horde of people
Born out of page that is not-of-its-own
Make a nest out of gentle bamboo strings
Truth
Truth has been eliminated
Thou the gavel has not once pounded
Thou the hand has not yet raised
Empty eyes look up
Truth
Lies on eyebrows’ end of temptation
On skin that thick, of non-ruminate species
Who burn joss paper and shroud for
The bats!
Number 0
Unable to find patient zero
Combination of conspiracies lies within the hidden number
Who can decode ambition and conspiracies?
On a pigeon face!
Widow holds an incense stick
Vanga saintly emerges, tear bursts as streams
Cartouche of hundreds of years
Not from present time!
The sun rises in the faraway meadow
Speed is exactly equal to the light
Speed of conspiracy does not lie in panic
On a merciful face that has been genetically transformed
19
29
39
Chain of invisible combination
From destructive whorl
If there is no tomorrow
Precede all our issues today
The lonely sun still, as a circle, rises
Round zero
Heaven
She closes the poem door unlike the country closes the trading
Knife stored into the air scabbard
The ascending bullet has not yet drawn a rainbow?
The heart no longer rotten
The surroundings found a dearth of sunshine
The field no longer green of a rounded floating footprint
Thick snowy winter hiding seeds hard as pikes
Who said needle is sharp
Need no sharpening
Must be hurt when stabbing
You
Me
Heaven don’t bestow mercy!
Paradox
I own lonesome
You nibble it with me, willingly
Comfort that hard to be felt
This one’s wound is different from others
We pertain to each other
Reed tree falls more and more grey
Who has ever mistaken our homeland for a lost road?
In life, handed to each other such long-gone shadow
The night pillow whispers
Thou the ear has not yet grown but heard more than ever
You swallow the sigh
Gecko pounds the wall
Falls into the night the call for myself
Don’t you walk to me?
For I’m so scared if someone sneaky
This lonesome of mine, goes empty suddenly
I own lonesome
Doesn’t mean you are more than enough
He who goes through walls
This story is no fiction
People has just gone through each other
Fiction…
AI’s era
You may not get used to programming
I meet you in the middle of the field of our mankind
The not-yet-harvested season
You go through me
By the lonesome when we are human being!
The rain droplets that still cry
For the time being, the rain droplets are still crying
Ashamed
Fine dust
nCov
I’ve met many men and women
Carrying clouds walking in silence
Thunder no longer heard in the East
But westward raising its drumsticks to making noise
People dilute hope
Into alcohol
Ferment the tongue/ tongue is fermented
The stick of spring solely holds four seasons
Juicy clouds
On the shoulder of he who restlessly travels
Rain sweeping extensively on the face
Wait till rain blowing cool
The ground separated
Clay has the shape of a star
Under the feet of he who hunts the delta
For the time being, the rain is still crying
Tear duct has dried
The rain droplets that go puberty and not anymore virgins!
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Translated into English by Võ Hoàng Long
