Skip to content

Keywords

Articles tagged "Vietnamese Literature"

Sage on the Mountain

In “Sage on the Mountain,” Vietnamese writer Đỗ Bích Thúy reveals the little-seen world of a Tay ethnic minority village in the northern province of Ha Giang near the Chinese border.  The protagonist, Dzin, has returned to visit her aged mother, a war widow who feels caught between the old ways and the new.  Ma and my nephew, Sinh, met me at the fork where the trail turned up the slope that led to the house on stilts. It perched...

From the Deep Earth

The day you came, the world knew how to breathe, earth worms suddenly knew how to sing, and the earth's surface trembled with life. My mother had kept my embryo inside for days and months where I wriggled, the world too small. I howl inside of my own hoarse voice. Wind blows me into your hands, so I feel the pain pierce my fingers and toes. Your gaze opens the sky. The sun rises and forgets to set. You place me on your lips and on your chest. Our hands join to make a...

Freeing Myself

One day the wind lifts me high so I look down and see an ant imprisoned in a multi-folder email box, in a mobile phone ringing from time to time. One day the wind lifts me high so I look down and see a bird imprisoned in the praises of his flock, in the limits of a sense of beauty pre-arranged. One day the wind lifts me high; the wind hands me a pair of wings and tells me to free myself from wings and fly above my thoughts. Translation of “Coi Goi.” First...

A Bullet Fired into the Night

Like a falling leaf in a dream Or an arm in a dream, dangling A night flight, with eyes wide open A June night, an astonished look No one sees the vanished smile The soldier's dark face above the barrel No one fears the barrel now— An eel sniffing the mud In a garden, banana leaves still catch dew On tall bamboo, a nest of storks sleeps soundly Only an ancient bat startles In a closed house, a mother turns up her lamp Not knowing she will be lonelier now And...

A Witness Disappears

The more she spoke, the darker it became. She plunged into the forest everywhere and she saw the sea. Busy holding on to my thoughts, I can't think, nor can I prevent the images. —Oyster disgorger. "They take them out of the sea and put them in basins, so that they will be less natural." He had struck her. She had remained alone in the company of her wound, not wishing to die. —A port being cleared of sand. "As for the animals, there's nothing to do but eat...

Like what you read? Help WWB bring you the best new writing from around the world.