poem by Bùi Chát
translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
1.
Fire
Silence
Might be golden
But as it confronts evil
Silence is golden only on the surface
That can easily contaminate
2.
But
As it confronts evil
Silence is golden only on the surface
That can easily contaminate
Bài thơ – hai cách xử
1.
Lửa
Im lặng
Có thể là vàng
Nhưng đối diện cái ác
Im lặng chỉ là vàng giả
Dễ gây ô nhiễm
2.
Nhưng
Đối diện cái ác
Im lặng chỉ là vàng giả
Dễ gây ô nhiễm
(Chúng ta đang trôi đi đâu?! – Nxb Đà Nẵng 2025)
Bùi Chát is the poet, writer, publisher and artist’s pen name. Bùi Quang Viễn was born on October 22, 1979, at Hố Nai, Biên Hòa, Đồng Nai Province, Việt Nam. Born to family of patriotic Catholic refugees from the North in 1954.
Graduated in 2001 from the Faculty of Literature, Linguistics, and Journalism of Hồ Chí Minh City University of Social Sciences and Humanities. Bùi Chát named and cofounded Nhóm Mở Miệng (Open Mouth Group) with the poet and writer Lý Đợi, promoting Graveyard & Garbage Poetry.
Nhà Xuất bản Giấy Vụn (Scrap Paper Publishing House), also founded by Bùi Chát, distributions of xerographically structured sensitive works by “pavement poets”. In 2004, Bùi Chát and cofounder Lý Đợi were detained for two days for distributing flyers at a poetry reading raided by the authority. In 2005, the culture department blocked their performance at the Goethe Institute in Hà Nội.
In 2011, Bùi Chát was awarded the IPA Freedom to Publish Prize “for his exemplary courage in upholding the freedom to publish.” He was arrested on his return to Việt Nam after receiving the award in Buenos Aires and detained for several days.
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.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
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Pensar dói
Sim, o silêncio é de ouro
mas só na superfície
reluz com um convite
ao matrimônio
ou até mesmo à danação
eterna.
Diga-me, minha amiga: a fala
morreu de fato
ou somos nós
que inventamos o medo
de dizermos algo na esquina ?
*****
Thinking hurts
Yes, silence is golden,
but only on the surface;
it shines with an invitation
to marriage,
or even to eternal damnation.
Tell me, my friend: has speech
really died,
or is it us
who invented the fear
of saying something on the street corner?
>>>
poem by Darlan M Cunha [BRAZIL]
Thank you.
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thank you my friend, I like the way you process your thoughts.
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Encourages reflection
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I think so, like two sides of a coin
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Lovely post 💜
Thanks for sharing ❤️
Grettings regards 🌎🇪🇦
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thank you very much for your visit my friend.
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