By Tạ Xuân Hải, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
we waded
through the night
through the crumbling destruction
our heads steeped in rain water
the promises on a page in an old book
the sun in the old exercise books
the mud in our shoes
behind us
our home
our elderly mother no longer by the burning stove waiting
the fresh smoke now soundly lost in the afternoon
mother was as shapeless as the wind
we waded
with heavy footsteps
through the floating garbage above the sewage covers
the bloated rats
their tummy full but they refused to close their eyes
swallowed whole were the sighs by the pounding rain
the rising fever in someone’s throat
someone spoke of their mother
he was a boy once he said fondly
a very stubborn boy
in the two hour downpour
the sunny laughter
a dog was soaked to the bone
the…
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