By Nguyễn Văn Thiện, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
We’re consuming words at empty parties with empty plates. To after wiping our mouths with bare napkins licking our lips as though we’re satisfied. They stripped us of everything, including the fish at the bottom of the sea. Saying it aloud, you wouldn’t believe it; we’ve been denied even our nightly dreams, when it is the most beautiful, at its height. This afternoon, on an empty stomach without a cloud, void of even familiar birds in the sky. At the foot of the horizon, the sea void of waves, not a single sail, not even a hint, to evoke a sense of loneliness, what a loss! You and I, victims of a conspired appropriation, like someone with an addiction to gambling, awoken after a useless night, found ourselves with nothing.
Back and forth the useless trips shipping empty coconut…
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