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The Grain of Rice ♦ The Snake

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0 bình luận ♦ 7.09.2010

From the Vietnamese originals “Hạt Thóc” (on Da Màu, July 13th, 2010) and “Con Rắn” (on Da Màu, July 16th, 2010)




The Grain of Rice


as a child
I always had a golden grain of rice, a giant one
I also had countless other grains
when Dad covered them to sprout
some dropped out
they grew up by themselves
but all eventually died
on the tiled floor

when their own kind from the sludge emerged
they emerged as well
to short reaches
they often smiled at me
and always waved from afar, until I came closer

we told each other those early fateful things
until the sun was blinding outside

those were fairy-tale rice plants
they did not need to grow up
I hid myself in the shell of a rice grain
and walked on
even as gradually the world was burying human lives




The Snake


I heard a girl whistling
so in tune, a flowing, thin, and melodious whistle whooshing by me
in the sound of a wall
I was like a snake

she whistled every evening
as if listening to music, perhaps, because she followed a certain tune each time
but one day
she did not whistle

this made me uneasy and so restless
that the snake inside me disappeared quickly
on my body it left barriers that were roughly chewed

a really slender sound had become it





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