When sacred wandered into the serpent’s nest
a race emerged & a nation forged—a lifetime’s bound by nectar
& poison in increments—amongst the half-blood
offspring: the half upright & half slither
inching from Khorat highlands to the lowlands of the Mekong.
No sooner than step did shadow
burn white as a midday
glinted sabers and mercenary paths.
Hundreds of years, foreign doubts divided & denied
truth merged
molding the golden peninsula
shifting water & land
Chenla villages into a stone metropolis,
visible from NASA above. Legacy & some
proven legends. Stone etched conquests & kingly
gratifications in foundation of a bygone empire.
Transcribed & more to be
completely deciphered. Enthusiasts & make-believe
playing gods and secular,
imagining hypotheses (only if we were there)
to mechanize each cold-stone character into events
could or not have taken place. Could they have
help mobilizing beyond their earthly
strength & body weight into celestial realm,
rendering this race to outdo
its greatness amongst jealous gods and opportune neighbors?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem