WHAT HAS FALLEN APART, DAMP AND WET LEFT BEHIND IN THE DARK | Lê Vĩnh Tài

A poem in Vietnamese by Lê Vĩnh Tài
Translator: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
Photography: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

sadness awakened at 2 am
then 4 pm
5 thirty in the afternoon
and 6 forty-five
in the morning

after the alarm went off
ringing sadness
you dab the corners of your eyes with concealer
cover up the crow’s feet
my sadness hiding
behind a joke

a smile, a cry
my sadness afraid of my happiness
worried that I’m no longer sad

sadness ceasing in front of me
pulling me back into darkness
or did it push me into the light
as though nothing is going on

when people ask “R U OK?” I would say “I’m fine” or “I’m really good
at writing poetry”

so that my sadness is not exposed
to anyone

my sadness unexposed as though sadness
it had collapsed on the veranda
or is still fast asleep at 12 noon
waiting for someone to join it for a drink

my sadness is the poem I’m writing
along with the tears as the door closes
sadness pooled in the showerhead
not that I’m a grub and I’m lazy
it’s because of it’s short fuse
teary temperament

my sadness unlike sadness
don’t know how to walk away from sadness
don’t know how to talk about sadness
but don’t think it’s not sadness
it’s the sadness from the beginning of time

no
you won’t be able to see my sadness
it’s not someone with a broken leg on crutches
how could you possibly understand
my sadness is like a cancer
how could you possibly comprehend

not until you strip me bare
squeeze and poke at the tumour
beneath my skin
you’ll see that the air in my lungs is full of smoke
and left behind in my heart is a drop of blood

coursing through my veins like the arrow
pinned on my chest

until I’m as light as a feather
drifting in a breeze
then you’ll see
that might be me

or it might be you(em)
your discard joy out of an open window
I’m not here
or there, darkness = joy
until the moment the doors are shut and locked
joy have not the fingers to turn the key
in holy matrimony

follows sadness is the joy
spilling through the doorway
points out an escape route from sadness

I will hold onto its arms tighter
than the time you held onto me

Christmas Eve, 2023

NHỮNG THỨ CÒN SÓT LẠI
ẨM ƯỚT VÀ VỠ VỤN TRONG BÓNG TỐI



nỗi buồn thức dậy lúc 2 giờ sáng
sau đó 4 giờ chiều
5 giờ 30 phút đêm
và 6 giờ 45
phút sáng

sau khi chuông báo thức
reo lên nỗi buồn
bạn thoa kem che nếp nhăn đuôi mắt
nỗi buồn của tôi ẩn nấp
đằng sau câu nói đùa

một nụ cười, một tiếng khóc
nỗi buồn của tôi sợ tôi hạnh phúc
sẽ không còn buồn

nỗi buồn ngừng lại trước mặt tôi
kéo tôi trở lại bóng tối
hay xô tôi ra ánh sáng
ra vẻ như không có chuyện gì

khi mọi người hỏi “bạn có khỏe không?” tôi trả lời “tôi khỏe” hay “tôi làm thơ rất hay”

làm mọi người không nhìn thấy
nỗi buồn của tôi

nỗi buồn của tôi không lộ ra như nỗi buồn
nó không gục đầu trên hành lang
hay ngủ vùi đến 12 giờ
và chờ người rủ nhậu

nỗi buồn của tôi bài thơ tôi viết
qua dòng nước mắt khi cánh cửa đóng lại
nỗi buồn của tôi đọng lại dưới vòi sen
không phải do tôi ở dơ hay lười tắm
mà vì nó dễ nổi nóng
và khóc quá nhiều

nỗi buồn của tôi không giống nỗi buồn
không biết bước đi nỗi buồn
không biết nói chuyện nỗi buồn
nhưng đừng tưởng nó không phải nỗi buồn
nó là nỗi buồn muôn thuở

không
bạn không thể nhìn thấy nỗi buồn của tôi
nó không phải như một người bị gãy chân và chống nạng
bạn cũng không biết rằng
nỗi buồn của tôi giống như căn bệnh ung thư
bạn không biết

cho đến khi bạn lột trần tôi
nắn bóp khối u
phía dưới thịt da
bạn thấy rằng tôi đã thở một bầu không khí như khói
đã nghẹt hai phổi, và trái tim
còn giọt máu

chảy trong huyết quản như một mũi tên
ghim trên ngực

cho đến khi tôi nhẹ như một chiếc lông
bay trong gió
có thể đó
là tôi

có thể đó
là em, đã gạt hạnh phúc ra khỏi cửa
không có tôi ở đây
hay ở đó, bóng tối = hạnh phúc
đến khi cánh cửa đóng chặt,
hạnh phúc không có tay để mở
để còn làm mấy cái chuyện tân hôn

tiếp theo nỗi buồn
hạnh phúc tràn qua cửa
chỉ ra lối thoát cho nỗi buồn

tôi sẽ nắm lấy cánh tay của nó
và giữ chặt hơn lần em đã ôm tôi


Lê Vĩnh Tài, the poet and translator born in 1966 in Buon Ma Thuot, Daklak, Vietnam. The retired doctor is still a resident of the Western Highlands and a businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.

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.

ĐÀN BÀ ĐẸP và CHÍNH QUYỀN by Nguyễn Hoàng Văn | Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

ĐÀN BÀ ĐẸP và CHÍNH QUYỀN, photography by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

BEAUTIFUL WOMEN & AUTHORITY

[Tiểu luận & tuỳ bút]

“Cứ như một quy luật, những khúc quanh đau đớn trong lịch sử chúng ta luôn là những cuộc thương lượng thất bại và những nỗ lực hòa giải dở dang.”

Trích ĐÀN BÀ ĐẸP và CHÍNH QUYỀN

Nguyễn Hoàng Văn

Cuộc đời của tôi là một quy luật “Thương lượng và hoà giải” như anh đã viết. Cảm giác không thoát được nó làm tôi nản.

Rồi một hôm mây xanh với những giây phút lành tôi lại bước ra ngoài.

Đánh hơi mùi men của rượu.
Lại yêu đời.

Khoe nè. Thơm quá nha, fresh off the printing press from Amazon

Trâm nhận được rồi nè anh Nguyễn Hoàng Văn .

I love the large print, can’t wait to read it, and maybe get an autograph.

“Anh Nguyễn Hoàng Văn , so it’s a collection of essays? Just got home from visiting my parents, to brag about my new book. I’m in the middle of reading the second essay. I find it is rather odd that I actually enjoy reading your essays, or rather any essay at all. My dad said that you have a great imagination, perhaps this is why your writing is so engaging?”

“Oh, Phuong Tram, I’ve written with my head and heart. I am so happy to have a reader like you and your Dad.”

“He said you’re a bit “mad”, and my reply was “and your daughters dad? they are crazy!” We love you, even though you are “người Huế” hheheh.”

“I am from Quang Nam, next to Hue”

“south of Hue right? It was just a bad racist joke I used to break the ice, it matters more to my parent’s generation but not so much mine, here in Australia we are preoccupied with other prejudices, my sisters and brother have never even had time to worry about North South let alone the middle. You speak of mind and heart, you mean “nghĩ và cảm”. To me it is science and poetry. Without it, one can not live, one will never be able to understand truly what it means to be happy or sad let alone satisfy.

It feels as though, you[YOUR WRITING] get me. LOL. simply put.”

“Người đời, nói theo Picasso, thích nghe tiếng chim hót nhưng không ai lên tiếng đòi chim phải hót sao cho họ hiểu. Họ cũng thích trồng hoa hay cắm hoa nhưng không bắt hoa phải nở cho họ hiểu. Tuy nhiên họ cứ bắt họa sĩ vẽ sao cho mình hiểu.”

Nguyễn Hoàng Văn

Heheh.. Thật tình.

Can I blog my thoughts ông anh? If you say no. I’m just going to do it anyway.

Văn của ông anh thu hút quá ạ!

I wish all essays were written like this and school might not have been such a torture all those years not being able to understand anything.

Your writing is acidic, scathing, humourous, bloody frank and refreshingly honest.

Your honesty is absolutely breathtaking. You read, you read a lot, but not once did you make me feel small or belittled. Like most of the people I have came across in the last eight years of rediscovering the mother tongue.

Frankly, you inspire me on this journey of trying to understand my parents and their heritage.

You give me hope, beyond the daily grind of sweat and tears the Vietnamese vernacular will endure and flourish.

It begins with a starter, a hook like “BEAUTIFUL WOMEN & AUTHORITY”, follow by arguments, nevertheless, more important are the conversations.

Conversations. Yes. Conversation.

I believe we need to coffee. This part. You can’t say no to.

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

November 20th, 2024

[Hoa, họa và đàn bà: cái cảm và cái nghĩ]

“Quả thật bất công cho các họa sĩ… họ khăng khăng làm khó các họa sĩ mà không chịu bỏ ra, chỉ vài sát na với ý nghĩ thoáng qua rằng, để cảm cái gì đó thì phải vứt bỏ định kiến, phải xích lại thật gần và, để hiểu, thì phải học.”

Nguyễn Hoàng Văn

……………

Applicable not just in the arts but also in literature. Time and again people complain poetry is hard to read, say in the past 8 years, the poetry I have read by anh Lê Vĩnh Tài. No one wants to spare the time nor are they prepare to let go of their preconceptions and prejudices, get their hands dirty, or simply unprepared to learn anything new.

My ability to translate poetry is always labeled as something else other than persistence and hard work. Reading the dictionary have become my hobby. Google is my friend. The learning experience in itself fascinating.

Translating to me is both science and poetry, both mind and heart combine. It is felt but logic is essential for it to make any sense in another vernacular.

And again in this new transcribed vernacular, it must also be felt and understood.

I have been so frustrated trying to get this point across, but my mother’s tongue failed me time and again.

It feels as though finally, someone understands me.

Sorry.

Just venting.

Reading books is cheaper than therapy.

Trâm

November 20th, 2024

[Bệnh nhược tiểu, thói hủ nho và thủ dâm chính trị]

Uhm, small mind, outdated, and way too much self-love can absolutely slowly eat away at one soul.

Voiced audibly through the author is the frustration of someone who love his country.

Dare to say, dare to point out the flaws without an ounce of reservation.

Time, the ephemeral lifetime. I can do nothing but echo Nguyễn Hoàng Văn’s frustrations. Surely one day it will become reality:

We are small but we are not small mind.

We have history but it should make us rich with knowledge, knowledge to endure not to hold us back. Knowledge being the means and the tools for us to move forward, help us keep up with the rest of world.

And when we love, we learn to love ourselves enough to know how to care and love for those all around us. We are a collective.

We pick up the garbage on the side of the road, not for ourselves but for those all around us. We do NOT collect master degrees so we can step on people around us.

It has little to do with being humble, it is about respect, respect the kind thought for someone who picks up the garage we litter in the street. The farmers who had toiled through the seasons so we can have the white rice we “deserve”.

Ahh…

Again, I vent.

As it went.

Another opened can of worms.

November 22nd, 2024

ĐÀN BÀ ĐẸP và CHÍNH QUYỀN, photography by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

[Phải học Tú Bà]

The truth is a rude awakening. We have much to learn from the madame of any institute.

If you want to fuck, you must learn how to fuck properly! What goes where and into what.

Certainly when to stop, and when to simply run!

Educated with all those master degrees but you don’t know where a woman’s G spot is then, what is the point of living.

November 22nd, 2024

ĐÀN BÀ ĐẸP và CHÍNH QUYỀN, photography by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

[Đàn bà đẹp và chính quyền tồi]

Tồi: hypocritical and two face.

Frankly, I was a little disappointed. The essay entitling the collection of essays, the hook, the reason I feel the urge to own such a book was not about me: a woman with a problem with authority, the patriarch.

Nguyễn Hoàng Văn showcases our motherland in a desperate plight for recognition, her fight is always diminished by those who likes to play dirty. If you are submissive, you are kind and sweet, you let people dress you up and pass you around like a doll, will you be remembered then?

My inability to shut the fuck up, and my mother’s term of endearment not in any way derogatory: “little madame”, begs me to conclude my role is more suited as a despicable character like Tú Bà rather than one of the Vương’s sisters in the epic tale by Nguyễn Du.

Life is never kind, life is hateful and mean, beyond that is just the fat that keeps us warm.

November 23rd, 2024


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.

Dusk | Bùi Kim-Anh

A poem in Vietnamese by Bùi Kim-Anh
Translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

Around the lake is a stroll of
boundless silence

Leaves on the verge of tears
waiting buds ready to burst open
a brimming reflection of the sun

Rosy through the hues of dusk
seemingly bottomless lake
hastily farewell the day

CHIỀU 


Ta đi dạo quanh hồ 
mặt hồ lặng im 
bờ hồ như vô bờ 

Những chiếc lá long lanh ngấn lệ 
những bông hoa náu mình chờ
mặt trời soi làn nước hồ chiều 

Hừng lên màu hoàng hôn 
đáy hồ như vô đáy
vội vã mặt trời từ giã ngày


Bùi Kim Anh, the poet born in 1948 in Thái Bình, graduated from Hanoi Teacher College, a teacher at a few high schools in Hanoi(Cổ Loa, Bạch Mai, Trần Phú). She is a member of the Vietnam Writers Association. Bùi Kim Anh together with her journalist husband Trần Mai Hạnh currently lives in Nguyễn Đình Chiểu, Hanoi with their eldest daughter and grandchildren, including Thiện Nhân, from Mount Thành, Quảng Nam, abandoned by his mother and adopted by Trần Mai Anh, the poet’s daughter.

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.