My poetry is about love not an invitation to love

A poem in Vietnamese by Thanh Dang
Translator: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
Photography: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

My poetry is about love not an invitation to love

I like beautiful things but I covet not beauty

My notes of devotion sceptical

In the high places unexplored

/

I write poetry, I love flowers

In my poetry, in my mind she will never age

I am forever young, my poetry is forever young

/

I love her in the arms of another

I like how she would smile brightly in the dark of night

She’s the four corners of the world, she is all faces, brilliant and ordinary

/

Ask me not why they are all beautiful, she is all beautiful

She is the spring, she is all alluring

She is the welcoming heart, opened arms

Draped across all things in golden moonlight

/

To love all but dream not of everything

The One is enough for a hundred years…

—–

April 2022

Tôi làm thơ tình yêu nhưng không mời mọc tình yêu

Tôi thích sự xinh tươi nhưng không ôm đồm nhan sắc

Tôi viết sự dấn thân với ít nhiều nghi hoặc

Về những tầng trời chưa có bước chân qua

/

Tôi làm thơ, tôi là kẻ yêu hoa

Tôi làm thơ, trong tôi em mãi không già

Tôi mãi trẻ và thơ tôi mãi trẻ

/

Tôi yêu em trong vòng tay người khác

Tôi thích em cười tỏa sáng giữa đêm đen

Em muôn phương, em muôn mặt, thường hằng

/

Đừng hỏi vì sao tôi nhìn các em ai cũng đẹp

Ai cũng thanh xuân,ai cũng gọi mời

Chỉ là tiếng lòng mở cửa

Cùng trăng vàng trải thảm khắp muôn nơi

/

Yêu tất cả nhưng không mơ tất cả

Chỉ một người đã đủ với trăm năm…


Thanh Dang, the poet from Vietnam currently resides in Houston, Texas, U. S. A.

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the blogger, poet, and translator, was born in 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

There's magic in translating a body of work from one language to another.

9 comments

  1. Hello dear Nguyễn. A poem for you.
    “She had tears in her eyes,
    she lost her first true love.
    The old poet held her hands and he told her.
    We will learn the hard lesson one day.
    We will learn. Love become a-new.
    Broken heart will need to taste loneliness and one day.
    We will learn, we will love many.
    Love is all we can own and control.
    My saddest regret dear lady Monterey.
    I didn’t love more.”

    Liked by 1 person

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