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  Mai Van Phan
   
     

trans by Do Xuan Oanh

THE NIGHT SPRING BEGINS   
 
Waiting around the lamp
light spreads, interruptedly
believed someone holds a torch
to examine the face of each one.
 
Cooking up game to kill time :
on whom the light sheds
that person calls the way spring begins.
 
The following words are noted down :
The cold shirking bird makes arrow
fall down the wall of winter.
Looked through window the face
suggests scrawling handwriting
A drop of dew splits
tender grass foot into abyss…
 
Jesting stories
callously relate to heaven and earth
Things move themselves
unsteady mountain shadow
Bird moans that wind changes season…
 
Pulling up lamp wick
Flocks of arrows swift through the roof.
 

 

 


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