By Tô Thuỳ Yên, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

 

A Professional Beggar

 

Even the wandering spirits are asleep

On the road still is the beggar

The repeating foregone mournful words

Sound within the neighbourhood?

The begging for sustenance yet satisfied

Self condemning self, bear it(what else is there)

Please disregard not it matter of belonging

At the moment, the world is shut down in the dark

What door is there left to knock upon?

The ensuing dog barking

The suspicious shadow

The loitering breeze in the canopies for the last few days

The winter arriving early

Heaven and earth strict on piling up the burden

Last night, a mate of mine went cold, died in his sleep

Everyone gathered around tried to wake him up

But to no avail

How could an external fire seeps through to the bone

When self is not something that could be…