Lê Vĩnh Tài | SAIGON IN LOCKDOWN (31/56)


By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translated by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm


you lit the stove

because you hate the dark

and the cold


you fiddle with the flame





and it ends with the howling wind

your by the ashes

in the flying embers

and the dust

seemed to be scented with the smell of 

the early morning chill

you’re erect

by her stove



eyes wide open

like the futile cough

of the guy next door


you’re fiddling

with the words

f-f-f i-re

l-l-l i-a-r

to be finally rid of the poem


so you may-be the rain

so she may breathe as though 

she’s never known oxygen


(October 2021)


bạn đốt lò 

vì ghét bóng tối 

và giá lạnh 


bạn lụi hụi chụm lửa 

mò mẫm 

rờ rẫm 

lẩm cẩm 


cuối cùng tiếng gió hú 

bạn bên mớ…

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