When the soul had been not yet drawn completely, not strong enough to shine brightly, the Twin Flame will remain just as a dream that cannot yet be touched.
By Nguyễn Thị Thùy Linh
[Nguyễn Thị Thùy Linh, born in 1991, is a poetess and literary translator who now lives in Hai Phong City, Vietnam. She received her Bachelor’s Degree in Economics from Hanoi National Economic University. She was awarded “The Gold Moon of 6-8 poetry Prize,” the highest prize given by The Elder Newspaper and Website lucbat.com (co-organizer), under the auspices of Vietnamese Fatherland Front Central Committee and Buddisht Sangha of Vietnam. She won the Second Prize in a poetry contest awarded by “Văn nghệ quân đội” literary magazine for the years of 2015-2016. She has translated and published two books, a children’s book titled “The twin dolls to the earth” (2016) written by Milutin Đuričković (Serbia) and a poetry collection called “Wings of the darkness” (2018) composed by Raed Aljishi (Saudi Arabia). Her poetry has been translated and published in many languages.]
Extract from “Twin Flame and Flower”
(Modern epic by Nguyễn Thị Thùy Linh)
INCOMPLETE SOUL
The moonlight touched the tiny box, and the scent of Mom’s clothes woke me up. The darkness gradually faded, and my whole body lightly flew away. It was late, but Mom was still quietly not sleeping. I gently kissed the tears that glistened on Mom’s cheeks. How stream of tears so thin and pure. Mom’s whole body trembled like a flower. Mom’s eyes looked deep into the void, searching for me.
I had always seen you, Mom, since that moment.
I couldn’t call name what that feeling really is. A thunderclap. The sound of struggling. Helplessness. Along with a strange peace. Mom held me in a small, pretty box like a gift. Mom held me completely in your trembling arms. Surrounding me was the moonlight and Mom. The other black bags were pushed away. I watched their shadows, until they faded into the endless darkness. The parallel, separated, confusing, and cold worlds.
But in that darkness, a small light flared up. It was me, a fragile flame, like a call from afar world. I had a feeling that I was not alone. Another flame, somewhere in this world, or yet to appear, was also lighting up. I hoped that one day, the two flames could find each other, calling each other in the light. But I also understood that, when the soul was still immature, not strong enough to burn brightly, that flame was just a fragile wish. An incomplete dream.
I looked down at my body shape that time: broken small, transparent like jellyfish pieces. My heart was the first to disappear, as if it had never existed. The beat stopped, and I was sucked into a very deep black hole. I thought I would have to go alone, but countless other little souls were also pulled in. They drifted like the sad crystals, their sparkling eyes looked at the crushed hearts and looked at each other in confusion. All drifted silently between distant whispers.
I wondered if I rejected this world, or had been rejected by it.
I felt myself gradually dissolving, weightless and tiny, became into moon dust particles, or completely free crystals. I still hoped, even if it was just a glimpse of light that flame would have a chance to revive. But when the soul had been not yet drawn completely, not strong enough to shine brightly, the Twin Flame will remain just as a dream that cannot yet be touched.
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Read: Secret of Lake Como – Poetry from Vietnam
