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…
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