By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translated by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

FOUR POEMS

1.

perhaps the virus has touched you 

with its finger

.

she’s touched you with her finger

because you’ve burnt her lips

.

the pain in your voice yesterday

you were breathless

.

faltering, you were tongue-tied

lacked a poetic tone

.

the nights

you forget to by a finger nurture the poem

it was not very clever

average rather

.

2.

the virus

kiss you via the sneeze of another man

frightened you

.

unlike her

the red wine 

on her lips

.

tears

you wish were as beautiful

.

the poem is nothing but sadness

suspended in the spit of the other man

where he hid

his illness

.

you’re sick but you won’t have to wait for

the poem to reply nor

.

that’s the first time the poem knows how to lie

like you’re…