G R I E F

 

 

This morning I called my name on my own

But it sounded strange like that of an unknown.

It turned out that I had forgotten my self of gold,

How thus to ask if one still remembers things of old!

 

Yesterday was different from today’s situation,

So a faithful bride is a promise for next incarnation.

The telephone ringing caused me distress,

The poem you read badly ruffled my soul to depress.

 

From now on, I have lost you – oh, my!

I’ve become a crane to call its flock in the foggy sky,

Flying towards the pinnacle of loneliness sphere

Giving back to you the yellow valley, my dear!

 

 

                            Translation by THANH-THANH