Life as Ranging Rope/ The Phong -- Thephong's poems

Thứ Bảy, 2 tháng 7, 2016

life as ranging rope by the phong ( uplifting poems / the phong -- dai nam van hien books, saigon 1974)

 life as ranging rope/

 uplifting poems by the phong/  -2-

 dai nam van hien books, saigon 1974

                                  life as ranging rope

                                                       by the phong

           1

            Eighteen years of age

                                ample breasts,

            nice make up

                                  wearing jeans,

            looking at the rain outside

            Night was torn apart by the sad

            voice singing

            Midnight.

            Open the door,

                                looking at the rain now falling thicker

            Sure as hell

                                she could kill men with her charming smile

            Bur the seldom smiled to those round her

             Her step-father was not Daddy

                               and was rather badly treated at that

             Her mother brought sorrow to her first children

                                by marrying a second husband

             Her own son

                                a kid as strong  an athlete

             and as manly as an American movie actor

             He screamed

             " You pay for your crime I tell you"

             Night after life you sleep with my mother

             When I am a man I will strike you for sure

             I'll put a stop to your dishonoring my family's name

             No, no

             You should not put on airs, telling us do to this or that.

             My sister no longer a teenager

                               she can sing if she likes to

              And she can sleep with anyone she damn pleases

             See me, face me, silly old man

             You are fifty and you practice gym

              you like good food, good drink, good clothes

             You like fun.

              Do you still love life that much?

              You're no moralist,

                                 o silly old man

             You hate me

                                  brand me as a hoodlum

                                  because I'm no son of yours.

             " Midnight ...

                                  I awoke and heard the firful cries of anguish".

              2

             The morning was misty

                                 the lamp was still burning

              A girl's sigh saddened the heart of any sensible boy

              Have a look at her in the mirror:

                                  she was ravishing

                                  there is no doubt about that

              He lips rouged

                                  but not to see her brother off foe soldiering

              Mind you

                                  it was not bullets that he would fire

                                  but it was anger

              mother could not help her tears

              Sister looked at him as if he was lover

              " I woke up in the middle of the night, hearing sobs ..."

              3

              The daughter told everybody the made clothes

              She was off very early morning

                                  and was not back until late night

               What the hell did she really do,

                                   nobody had any clue

               But who really cared!

                                    Who really cared!

              Thanks to her,

                                    her little sisters had candies to eat

              Thanks to her,

                                     they had nice clothes to wear

               and they had nice words to say about her,

                                     they were very fond of her

               We the neighbors believed what we were told;

                                     We were not fussy people

               "At night we heard merry singing and sobbing as well"

                4

                One morning

                                      she was escorted home by two cops

                                      with he handcuffs on her wrists

                 How pitiful she looked!

                                       She could only weep to plead for mercy

                 There was conclusive evidence

                 she was caught sleeping naked with a foreigner in a hotel

                 Ah,

                                          what a shabby  singer she was

                 By no stretch of the imagination could she be taken as a tailor

                 As for me

                 I believed her self- defense supremely convincing

                 I judged her and found her innocent

                 I passed the verdict as a poet

                 I got not money at all

                                          so it was not a professional occupation

                 I was concerned to see deeply into human motivation

                 The fake singe's mother cried loudest of all.

                 "That night

                                            it was surprising quiet

                                                       no singing, no sobbing 

                                                             nothing ..."

                  5

                   I could not hear the funeral march beating

                   As coffins passed through the road in front of my house

                   Day after day without relatives following the coffin

                   Who had died?

                                                 How dis he live?

                                                 Could a life be so short and sad

                   Well,

                            I knew those who had paid the price of patriotism

                            seeing the flag-wrapped coffins

                   Alas,

                            it broke my heart that those wives forgot you

                                                   not long after that

                   I knew they wanted to get married again

                             leaving your children uncared for

                   I knew why these unfaithful women hated dogs like hell

                   Night and day were indistinguishable,

                   the singer's voice and weeping already died down ...

                   Then one sad evening I raised my voice to sing for myself

                    Evoking the sad image of two love beings,

                               her and myself, on the hill of pines

                    The little girl from the house next door

                                started eating candies bought with cash

                    Seeing her wearing a morning band I asked her about it

                    Sadly she told me his brother had been killed in a battle

                     when I asked about her sister

                                she shook his head

                      " No, no I have no sister

                                 my sister was not a whore"

                    I apologized as she broke in tears

                    Night and day are alike

                                 life is but a hanging rope

                    They are still living

                                 still living ...

                                 

                     there is not much sound and fury ...

                     THEPHONG

                      Saigon, July 16, 1963

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