By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translated by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
it’s nothing but a short romantic tryst
like that of the bee and a flower
when the petals are dead
but the bee return still
buzzing around dancing
waiting for a new flower to bloom
love that flower
just as much as the one before
as though these flowers all smell the same
but people are different
no one has a story like yours
no one has the kind of troubles you have
no one smells like you
even after you’ve been dead in an alley for three days
even though they’re busy
busy with the supplies of instant noodles
and the way we have let you go
consuming the sun and the tears
secretly waiting
not like the bee searching for nectar
we’re hopeful when we’re in love
not like the bee
our wings are…
View original post 207 more words
The Reluctant Poet 