THE DAYS DAD GOT IMPRISONED
How
harrowing were the days Dad got imprisoned:
Mom
could hardly sleep, got her eyes wet, rings wizened.
Gnawing
the tiny rootstock Mom spared for me: how sad!
I
was so hungry, Dad!
The
cow feces I bore on my head across the river,
Wetted,
dripped from the basket, salted my lips.
The
heartless stream was still flowing to make me shiver.
Oh
Dad! such storms had risen to break life into chips.
After
the flood, Mom dried the damp hay nearly kaput;
Humping
her back, she carried on either slender shoulder
The
burden of family responsibility, bareheaded, barefoot;
She
staggered, listlessly calling for Dad, the householder...
Months had thus slipped away, and years gone by;
Mom
still hid and rested her life in thatch, straw and slime.
I
concealed my youth in such sadness as the immense sky,
Shouldering my days struggling to drain the sea of time.
Vietnamese poem by NGUYỄN THỊ BÍCH NGỌC
English translation by THANH-THANH