PHOTOGRAPH

my head lowered, my greys
in waves quivered in the sunset

the grass and the sea
a uniform blue

the fishermen I see
at sea left not a trace

I saw nothing but the beginning 
and it was the end

the years buried
without a grave

nor a graveyard required
to justify their absence

you can not draw
a line of symmetry across the sky

your shadow and mine 
they are small

even the bloodstain
fades in the shadow

this space, my shadow
it’s hollow

and these dense grey locks of mine
rested on this chest

where on this desolate land did I 
began to cry

HÌNH ẢNH

tôi cúi đầu, những lọn tóc xám run rẩy ánh hoàng hôn tôi thấy cỏ và biển cùng một màu…