Lê Vĩnh Tài | no. 10:14 – April, someone writes your name on a tin of salt


Please read the amazing poetry.

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By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

 

April

someone writes your name on a tin of salt

a tin of shredded preserved pork

as though once upon a time we had noted the sadness

the darkness.

 

like nguyễn đức sơn

a fucken rose, never has to lift a finger how the fuck would it flower?

 

April

people will work harder

except for the guns, all they have to do is shout now and then:

– there are too many hippies in this city

hanging around all day, lazy.

 

the tall apartment buildings

upon our return shimmered in teardrops

as we hugged each other

cried

 

a forgotten verse

heading for Saigon our home on the boulevard

the resounding caves of the past

hid our the motor vehicles out of habit

while we’re busy writing our names on tins of salt

the only thing 

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