G R I E F
morning I called my name on my own
it sounded strange like that of an unknown.
turned out that I had forgotten my self of gold,
thus to ask if one still remembers things of old!
was different from today’s situation,
a faithful bride is a promise for next incarnation.
telephone ringing caused me distress,
poem you read badly ruffled my soul to depress.
now on, I have lost you – oh, my!
become a crane to call its flock in the foggy sky,
towards the pinnacle of loneliness sphere
Giving back to you the yellow valley, my dear!
Translation by THANH-THANH