'death consciousness' / a poem by the phong - translated by dam xuan can

Thứ Sáu, 27 tháng 1, 2012

                   DEATH CONSCIOUSNESS 

                      a poem by THE PHONG

                                               translated by ĐÀM XUÂN CẬN

When the dragonfly was in flight over the May paddock

Its two eyes engaged in hunting a certain smaller dragonfly for food;

The little kid quit school to stroll along the edge of the paddock,

Then stopped,

         and used a striker with sticky breadfruit resin

         to catch the dragonfly turned hunter

But this insect was wiser

         than the kid allowed it to be:

         it quickly moved elsewhere

The kid did not give in,

         he took the small dragonfly as bait

Which enjoyed a measure of freedom

         at the end of the string in the hand of the kid

The dragonfly turned hunter was not good enough

         to avoid the string

It alighted on the victim

         then lifted it up to its mouth

the kid spun back the string

         took the dragonfly by its tail

he burst out laughing

" Here you are, say goodbye to your freedom"

I spent the whole morning

         to search for the truthful meaning of life

Looking at the germinating seeds washed

         in by the rain last night

This morning

        I met the kid who quit school for a stroll

Then sun was high

         near the red flower thicket

         he dug the earth to bury the insect

Its is no longer in life

         its body cuts to bits

Ah!

Returning to dust,

       it no longer cared

       if there was still light in the world

he little kid used to feel sad

       when evening came

He was sick with learning,

       he scorned to hear the teacher's words anymore

he now asked me

What is the use of all this miserable business

And tell me

" you are old enough

        why do you waste time with a kid's play

        why did you borrow my sling

        and you hid behind the gourd plant

        throwing little stones at the bees hovering

        from flower to flower

and tell me

        you kept the light on all night

        did you study inside the mosquito net ? "

You had a funny face when another bee stung you

        you little insect

        but surely you must be curious

        why it stung you go savagely.

I know the meaning of life already,

        my boy

        it died

        and its death taught me courage

Death or life really makes very little difference

The dragonfly hunter had no choice

         but to live  on a smaller one

It died because of you

         and no other fellow insect took

         to revenge its death

It was not the same of bees

        it was not the same with ants either

I live by myself

       I have no worry whatsoever

because I do not expect anything from anyone

We are bees

We are ants

 We are  dragonflies.

We are full of hatred

        and consciousness of death

But let's face it

        you are not old enough

to grasp why I'm still nursing my deep wound...

     

Saigon,   July  16  1963

THE PHONG

                                 (from Uplifting Poems in' Asian Morning

                                 Western Music , poems by The Phong

                                  This Edition, Jan,2012- Ho Chi Minh City).

    

     

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