If had to burn all the love into fire, what to pay a debt for a hundred year, crying poem born like a baby, heart fibers drain the silkworm body.
[author title=”Nguyen Xuan Lai ” image=”https://sindhcourier.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/Poet-Nguyen-Xuan-Lai-from-Vietnam-Sindh-Courier.jpg”]Nguyen Xuan Lai is a poet from Vietnam. He is member of Hanoi Writers’ Association and Vice President of Ha Dong – Son Tay Writers’ Association. His published works include ‘The Wind of January February’ – poetry collection; ‘The passing season of cudweed’ – poetry collection; ‘Touching the sound of waves’ – poetry collection; ‘At the Propeller hill’ – collection of short stories. [/author]
The drop of salt
Waking up in the deep area
The feeling of literature commitment
Do not dare to wish for a wave
Just want to be the drop of salt in life.
It’s not easy the blue sky and white clouds
Immersed in sweet fragrance in the lagoon
Drop of poetry flowing in the dust of life
Looking for something in all directions just a sound!
Amidst the noise, pungent of kitchen smoke
Pity for the dark blue of rain forest
There’s nothing worth talking about on a cold day
Why still grieving an old afternoon?
Why still feel like nothing has come yet?
Haven’t touched the level of love
In that place…where the life exists
The sadness and happiness, real and fake, elegance and lowness!
If had to burn all the love into fire
What to pay a debt for a hundred year
Crying poem born like a baby
Heart fibers drain the silkworm body.
Tired of dreaming about knocking on the door
Wild poems in the fields
Up and down poems with the river
Longing in the middle of life: the drop of salt
The Field of Heaven
I’m mixed among black and white clouds
Adventure to sow and reap the field of heaven
Although still know how many people who came first
Turns ashes, leaving behind the floating clouds!
There may be the seeds of rebirth
Let’s laugh foolishly and funny
May have the hateful look
In hard furrows of the far distance!
Just sowing seeds on cold winter days
Changing width and length with a little aimlessness
If could be dark and white clouds
Down to my field for the crop!
I know I’m delusional
Walking like a ten-year-old child
Just waiting for the field of heaven to open
Flying sesame seeds
Swinging the Lime tree!
Come back Fall…
Fall to remember the days of previous years
Recall the person with blue eyes
Fall to love with yellow chrysanthemums
Meet the season of Covid, wobbly.
The sun drops the hiccups
A child waits for mommy not to come back
How many quiet shading autumns
Pack each nostalgia for the homeland!
Return the autumn wind
Even though still losses and sacrifices
Return to the autumn of white clouds
Peace for every family.
(Translated into English by Khanh Phuong)