TIME
I
freed myself from each curtain of fog
That
had covered souvenirs so thickly.
The
early fall’s fall of leaves in the bog,
And
old footprints also gone so quickly.
Strange
were grass buds in their prime;
The
wind passed, left sadness anyhow.
No
longer the notebooks-in-hands time
But
astounded one young spring bough.
The
childish love of that green period
Which
was only once and I had it lost.
The
worn path hurt by pebbles myriad:
That
wight being absent at such a cost.
Stars
over sea resembled montanes tiny;
My
lipstick blurred, scalene like a stain.
The
dew drops fell, I tasted them briny:
Tongue
stiff, bitter life wrongly to gain.
Lamp
on while lulling my child to sleep,
Void
lullaby to clouds as empty breeze,
As
hair changes color to dusk to sweep
I
silently try to seek oblivion and ease.
Translation by THANH-THANH