black flower / a poem by High School from Đà Nẵng

We promise one another  / poems from an Asian war /
Don Luce , J. C. Schafer & J. Chagnon  selected, introduced ...


                                        b l a ck    f l o w e r
                               by a High School from  Đà Nẵng ( Central Vietnam)

You sit in a car
With a foreigner
And wave your hand .
Is it to say goodbye to me ,
Or farewell to days that have passed ?
Your face reminds me of someone I have known ;
I search my mind ,
I try to remember who it might be
Who has waved to me
In bitterness or sympathy .
                      
                         My God !  It is you ,
                         Whom  I love,  whom I have spent happy days with ,
                          Innocent and small ,
                          With soft cheeks and full lips
                          With virgin skin unblemished
                          With a scent fine  as  the frailest flower  ;
                          The one I worshipped and respected .
                          And now all that is finished .
                           I remember when you were a student not long ago ,
                           Holding your palm-leaf hat against the sun
                           To shade your face ,
                           Pouting when the teacher gave you a low mark .

 Now  you exchange your flesh for money  ,
Dress up in powder nad perfume .
You are call Mrs .  or Mis - -
Does it matter ?
You are  a bitter glass of whiskey
Which people of a different color,  different race
Buy to satisfy themselves .

                     
                            And   I ,  still just a guy
                            Who morning and night
                            Drags his feet to the cafe we knew then ,
                            Without money enough for two cups of coffee ,
                            I look at the people ,
                            I look at you there ;
                            I look at eveybody .
                            And I bow my head to wipe tears from my eyes .

I want  to take the earth in my hands
And squeeze it so tightly
The meridians will be squashed out of shape
So we,   following our seperate lines ,
Will never again meet under the great vault of heaven .
Because a dream is always beautiful ,
Don' t you agree ?

                         Oh,   but the cruel truth is
                         The day I really say goodbye to you
                          I will instruct the sun  not to rise
                         So I can hold you in my arms forever,
                         And  will not tremble with fear ;
                         So no one will see me blish ,
                          And my shyness will be hidden .
                             []


  ( from  WE PROMISE ONE ANOTHER  - poems from an Asian war /
      Don Luce,      JohnC. Schafer   &   Jacquelyn Chagnon  selected,  traducted,
       introduced ... / Published by  The  Indochina Moblile Education Project
            Washington , D.C.  1971  -   p.  62 - 64 )