Παρασκευή 14 Οκτωβρίου 2022

Poems by Poet Tran Quang Dao - Vietnam

 


Poet Tran Quang Dao - Vietnam

His brief biography

Born in 1957. Published 11 books. His typical works: “Grass hug”, “Copy and paste dreams”, “Flying in the dream”, “Moon ring” - volumes of poems.

Won the Poetry Prize by Vietnam Writers’ Association in 2020.

Won the Asian Literature Prize in 2021

Won the Art Danube Prize of Hungary in 2022

 

His poems

 

Green field

Onto the field I released the self of mine

the children who were playing in morning shine

 

The page was green

with cynodon grass honey grass

I was like a herd of angel cows who before good grasses dared not gnaw

having fears for grass lives

 

 The colour of the page was colour of water 

I reflected in this my own shadow

and saw the multiple Dao-boy who were laughing on ripple waves

was the wind making fun of me?

 

I saw multiple horizons

how many were there leaves like footprints

as those that walking on non-earth bearing

of my childhood that was led by the wind?

 

I heard multiple calls

that sun beams poured with tickets like jackfruit leaves

train carrying childhood of mine

it hasn’t ever come back!

 

Above a mountain the sun began to lean

it managed to round up but where was the self of mine …

                                                          July 21st 2018

 

On the writer’s desk

The ideas are forming on the laptop screen

the words kept coming in one after the other before they were distrupted

electric fan made note papers flap-flap sounding

 

 

Making the cellphone the paper weight

that with all the names in its contacts

and its messages

weighting on the page

that didn’t hide it all the wind blew flap-flap

 

My hand was stretching out to turn off the fan

heavier-than-word sweats

that then crawled out of my hairsroot

 

Turning the wind on again

the papers joyfully sang on the desk

the electric fan spinned and rotated showing off

 

I closed my eyes but had not meditation

 

For many years black clouds shrouded me

I was wrapped in the black cuscuta

intangible walking sounds were right behind me

 

Oh yeah the fan rotated the wind

the papers still sang its joyfulness

my mind was letting the words go …

 

The bell-ringing of papers weight shivered suddenly.

                                                July 2018

 

 

Peeled my wings

I peeled my wings

to flock together

every beat of my own blood felt pain

I was flying

the wings didn’t get tired

the thinking got hurt

Why didn’t I fly in the flock

even though the formation still to be right

I neglected what to fly for

In dreams

that someone who flew by one’s own wings

put hands together

begging me please don’t fly at the dizzying altitude

I peeled my wings and fly

returning the hard-of-hearing clouds to the sky

returning the strike-desire-dumb breaths to the wind

on the slowly flapping wings

Left a laugh at the ground …

                   TuyenQuang, July 27th 2018

 

 

Growing an overlapping crop

                             For BaoNinh my compatriot

After offering the harvest gold

the silently silence

ricestraws was loaded with wind

 

they were incorporating to the sun beam and heading for reproduction

 

The monk put the palms of his hands together

Amitabha after the ceremony

saving the seeds of men heart’s kindness

 

the seed germination was headed for their season

 

Putting the fullstop at the end of the poem

the poet looked up in the air

he felt emptiness inside

 

on the table the words walked eachother entering the dream realm

 

The poem done the life of mine gone

I found a new life!

 

 Getting old

Sitting and dangling feet into water

likewise for my youth

suddenly a fish with icelike teeth

that cut one of my phalanxes off

 

Long-distant riding

there’s a roof vent

where a movie of greenness was showing by the wind

I put my head  through the vent

my eyes immediately darkened by two black arrows anyone shot with

 

One day in a fantasy park

dancing hand in hand with a sunbeam joyfully waltz-with-me

when a verse suddenly appeared

in the wind I heard the sound of an old guy sawing his horn …

 

I went home and sat in tears

the loneliness tied its noose

the shadow of my wings

that were flapping tragically beneath the moon!

 

In my dream I felt lost my leaves …

                                                August 2018

 

(Translated into English by Nguyen Chi Hoan)







 

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