DESCENDING THE MOUNTAIN TRAIL
DESCENDING THE MOUNTAIN TRAIL
Tomorrow, the monk descends the mountain
His thin monastic robe has faded at his shoulders
Through time, his prayer beads have worn out
His drinking age was replaced with the perfume of incense
At dawn, he descends the mountain
his hair whitish emulates livelihood
in the east, the sun turns red
and a summer without a single flying cloud
Tomorrow, the monk descends the mountain
As the end of the road, seeing a town
Coughing in the darkness
seeing the Buddha hall in the distance
At dawn, he descends the mountain
Crying tears are still in his eyes
Since the monks still love the shadow of darkness
the nightmare amongst the forest shroud.
-- September 1983
AT THE END OF THE YEAR
Another year passes shakily
Barely the forest wind makes ends met
The tomato rows sun dried in the silky sunshine
Harshness in the voice to call the homeland
-- Van Gia Forest, 1977
AT DAWN, PRACTICING CURSIVE WRITING
Morning dew blends in the aromatic tea
The cold wind caresses the floral paper
Gently raising the brush,
I hear from the bottom of my heart the sound of excitement.
-- Saigon, 1980
RAIN ON THE HIGHLAND
A swallow on a road that drags on
A long night listening to the falls cascading from above
In a hurry, I walked across the immense river
Waiting for the rain to fall on the flustered wings of the butterfly.
Spectral shadows are calling people’s names at dawn
With vague, unidentified sounds every day
Green rain is falling on black hair, in a heavy mist
Leaves in a dream drifting afar from the shore
He keeps standing in the middle of the sun-drenched river
telling stories of time immemorial
The little butterfly is fluttering back on its thin wings
But whereto, an unseasonal leaf?
Bygone times are still masquerading as smiles in dreams
He keeps going like water in spite from its source
Faintly intimate with shadows on an alien shore
As forlorn clouds, Oh!, former hair of thousands of years old
SMALL RIVULET
I am a small rivulet
Singing under the sun
Bending myself through deserted forests
Embracing the falling autumn leaves
The heart and mind of a meaningless existence
Longing for the immense ocean
People enjoy selfish love
I am inebriated with universal love
Enamored with a new source of life
Trustful in the future
Filled with joy once well oriented
The vehicle for progress has already started moving
I am a small rivulet
Mingled in the flow of life
Carrying along so much energy
To faraway places
I am a small rivulet
Running under all firmaments
Through countless forests
To finally come back to the immense ocean.
CONFIDENCES
I can still hear the songs of cicadas
Still in love with the deep night flickering fire
Home is on top of the Truong Son Mountain
Let me entrust to you my everlasting wrath
THE HEAVENLY BIRD
A promise buried in mourning
A heavenly bird disappearing into the depths of the heart,
I hear weariness momentarily
Autumn filled with the reverberation of thousands of wails
The wee hours soaked in chilly mist and windstorm
I breathe deeply in dream engulfing dust
On the other side of the window over the hill yonder, the stars rising
Once going, the ship is going forever
Going to remember those afternoons with the white-tempered hair
With eyes staring at the adventure blood drops …
MỘNG NGÀY
Ta cỡi kiến đi tìm tiên động
Cõi trường sinh đàn bướm dật dờ
Cóc và nhái lang thang tìm sống
Trong hang sâu con rắn nằm mơ
Đầu cửa động đàn ong luân vũ
Chị hoa rừng son phấn lẳng lơ
Thẹn hương sắc lau già vươn dậy
Làm tiên ông tóc trắng phất phơ
Kiến bò quanh nhọc nhằn kiếm sống
Ta trên lưng món nợ ân tình
Cũng định mệnh lạc loài Tổ quốc
Cũng tình chung tơ nắng mong manh
Ta hỏi kiến nơi nào cõi tịnh
Ngoài hư không có dấu chim bay
Từ tiếng gọi màu đen đất khổ
Thắp tâm tư thay ánh mặt trời
Ta gọi kiến, ngập ngừng mây bạc
Đường ta đi, non nước bồi hồi
Bóc quá khứ, thiên thần kinh ngạc
Cắn vô biên trái mộng vỡ đôi
Non nước ấy trầm ngâm từ độ
Lửa rừng khuya yêu xác lá khô
Ta đi tìm trái tim đã vỡ
Đói thời gian ta gặm hư vô.
Tuệ Sỹ
Sài Gòn 1984
DAY DREAM
I rode an ant in search of fairy-grottoes
Immortal realms with flocks of meandering butterflies
Toads and tree-frogs wandering in search of life
In deep caverns, a snake slumbers in reverie.
At the grotto entrance, a swarm of bees swirled in dance
Flowers of the crimson forest sensuous
Bashful of fragrance and hue, the old rushes straightened up
Becoming an old immortal’s gently waving white hair
The ant crawled around, struggling to find life
On my back a debt of love
Also, the forlorn fate of my Fatherland
And our love, fragile threads of sunlight
I asked the ant – where is it, the Pure-land?
Beyond the void, traces of birds in flight
From the call of a blackened and bitter land
Lighting up my mind in place of the sunlight
I called the ant while grey clouds pondered
On the road of my wondering, my country anguished
Peeling away the past, heavenly beings shudder in shock
Biting into the infinite expanse, a dream shattered in two
Those mountains and rivers, sunk in grief ever since
Midnight fires in the forest embracing dead and desiccated leaves
I go in search of a shattered heart
Starving for time, biting into nothingness.
Saigon 1984
Mộng Ngày
Ta cỡi kiến đi tìm tiên động
Cõi trường sinh đàn bướm dật dờ
Cóc và nhái lang thang tìm sống
Trong hang sâu con rắn nằm mơ
Đầu cửa động đàn ong luân vũ
Chị hoa rừng son phấn lẳng lơ
Thẹn hương sắc lau già vươn dậy
Làm tiên ông tóc trắng phất phơ
Kiến bò quanh nhọc nhằn kiếm sống
Ta trên lưng món nợ ân tình
Cũng định mệnh lạc loài Tổ quốc
Cũng tình chung tơ nắng mong manh
Ta hỏi kiến nơi nào cõi tịnh
Ngoài hư không có dấu chim bay
Từ tiếng gọi màu đen đất khổ
Thắp tâm tư thay ánh mặt trời?
Ta gọi kiến, ngập ngừng mây bạc
Đường ta đi, non nước bồi hồi
Bóc quá khứ, thiên thần kinh ngạc
Cắn vô biên trái mộng vỡ đôi
Non nước ấy trầm ngâm từ độ
Lửa rừng khuya yêu xác lá khô
Ta đi tìm trái tim đã vỡ
Đói thời gian ta gặm hư vô
Tuệ Sỹ
(Sài Gòn 1984)
oOo
Day Dream
i ride an ant in search of the fairy cove.
in lazy skies eternal butterflies flutter,
hard-of-living toads and frogs wander,
a snake lies dreaming in its hole.
a swarm of bees dance outside my lair,
a wild flower puts on her make-up;
not outdone, the aged reeds perk up,
the wind shuffles the old sage’s hair.
around life’s vicious circle the ant spun--
i on its back a heavy love and debt;
nationless, we’re both victims of fate
still as loyal as the silky webs of sun.
i ask the ant, which way to Stillness,
can a bird’s flight be traced beyond Void,
is Earth, in her black and suffering voice
lit by self-reflection, not sunlight instead?
i call the ant, as silver clouds unmove
our paths of might, our Nation of could.
peel our past, the angels are shocked;
biting Limitless, our dream breaks in two.
a Nation--silenced since time withstood
midnight fires which embraced dead leaves.
looking for my heart, broken and lost
hungering for time on Emptiness i chew.
-ianbui (08’01)
Melbourne, FL
