Thanh-Thanh NhuanLe

In the purple flowers’ shade
You kissed me the first kiss.
The moon lit its light of jade;
The cicadas sang their song of bliss.
...

Unable to see you for just one day
Suffices to lade my heart with sorrow.
I had lived a rubbish life for many years,
Until one day: much grief for the morrow.
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I have seen an old woman woebegone to bare:
Her children and their beds have no time to care.
She lived with co-sufferers in the home for the aged;
Gaunt, for relationship pined, about condition raged.
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I hold my ballot in my shaking hand
And say to myself: this is cause and effect.
The opportunity is so grand
I have spent all my life to expect.
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“Parents’ merits like the sky and the sea always remain,
But children’s repayment is about to boast and complain.”
That is the abounding habit of behavior so bad:
How such feeling is depressed! How such way is sad!
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Picking up the handset I was stunned with surprise:
Whose voice as light as falling leaves in cold skies?
Isn't it ten years, ten odd years, dear mother,
Just in silence to miss and long for one another?
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My sister that New Year was sixteen, a naive civilian:
Her cheeks just began to grow rosy, her lips vermilion;
Her eyes symbolized the azure sky, her heart a green bud;
Her soul was filled with warmth, the spring sun lifeblood.
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In the morning wind our date turned into a new scene.
The fishing boat hid behind the canal's reeds as screen,
To reserve only for me to enjoy my whole first love
That was sliding into the carnal desire above.
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I

The six-year-old girl
drifted lonely looking for food.
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Is there any Spring for Mom, my dear?
The sad past and memory would never clear:

Fleeing from the enemy that Black April's night,
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I arrived in San Francisco at noon
on a dark day similar to nightfall.
The slopes hazed far above with fog;
People crowded like in a festive mall.
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Who has brought here dark clouds this afternoon?
To spread over the young girl's shoulders spare,
And stick solitude slantingly over her head of hair.
Who has brought here dark clouds this afternoon?
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I have lived many years away from my old country
And resigned myself to becoming amongst the rabble
Never yet thought of the duty though of all and sundry
To achieve any responsibility even just to dabble.
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It was always you with your air pensively deep,
Your stride with hesitation on the hill steep,
Your image glimmering through cigarette smoke,
Night after night pity for my heart to evoke;
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Reverently dedicated to my dear Dad’s spirit

Whilst boarding the aircraft to fly towards the ocean
I suddenly pitied my father, tears flowing out of emotion.
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How harrowing were the days dad got imprisoned:
Mom could hardly sleep, got her eyes wet, rings wizened.
Gnawing the tiny rootstock Mom spared for me: how sad!
I was so hungry, dad!
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To visit picturesque Yosemite, here I came
Just by becoming an exile being affected;
I looked at this scenery of universal fame
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I have heard palaver, over historic issues ranged,
Such as, “If Cleopatra’s nose had been shorter,
The whole face of the world would have changed! ”
But who asked “How? ” would be a blabber aborter!
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Since then I have undergone a thinking’s renovation
That both female and male take the same orientation.
To appreciate your feelings, emotional and carnal blend,
I ’ve got to meet your needs to be worth your boy-friend.
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Smokes and flames, blood and tears
on the television screen spread dyeing.
On September the 11th in California
I tuned in, watched and burst out crying.
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