FROM THE FLOWER OF MY BODY

NGUYEN HIEP

I was born from the evergreness of the green banh chung*,
From the perfuned rice fields
Mother feed me with refreshing tir and kindness and gererosity
With her sweetness, she raised me in her shoulders.
I was born from the four corners of the banh chung*
Echoed and vilerated with the ancestors bronze drums
From the sky of the symbol of the truth and the order of the universe
From the sadness of the war, and the grievede eyes of the father.
The voice of my father was tremble and bass, the voice of self- belief of
An Tieâm, the independent mand alone in the far island
Drops of tears from the stone face of my mother, lasting harmony in life
The girl of my own: pink checks, black teeth, rosy bras, precious trousers
She belongs to the lyrical folksongs and romantic poetry.
My older sister like miss Taám, miserable, follwed the advices of Buddha
The miraculous vase containing of green dreams
My young sister, in nocent eyes, shaking melaneholy on my mother’s back
Oh! My sister’eyes! Full of sadness and grief from poverty
From my weak body
Passing and passing across the rainy and dry seasons
Suffering life makes my eyes bright and my royal soul illuminated
Who is watring my inner fire and darken my fire works’sky
Who is tightenning my green and rosy tree of life?
The celestial moon with a marvelous encounter
Looks like a poetical wanderer
Hidden behind the cross- roads and the alone intercourse
Thirty year old, my father was burned to death with hatred’s fire
And full of griever, my mother asvas like foamywaves discappearing on the remote seaside
And you, my darling! You appeared and dissapeared in a while.
I was born from the greennessof the fourth- cornered trational green cake
From the anffering derth, the perfume of Tet*
From my body, awakerd the sunshive morning liberating the tight of my cheart-rose
Beautifully put on the vase of longevity- water.
From my weak body
Passing and passing across the rainy and dry seasons
Suffering life makes my eyes bright and my royal soul illuminated
Who is watring my inner fire and darken my fire works’sky
Who is tightenning my green and rosy tree of life?
The celestial moon with a marvelous encounter
Looks like a poetical wanderer
Hidden behind the cross- roads and the alone intercourse
Thirty years old, my father was burned to death with hatred’s fire
And full of griever, my mother asvas like foamywaves discappearing on the remote seaside
And you, my darling! You appeared and dissapeared in a while.
I was born from the greenness of the fourth- cornered trational green cake
From the anffering derth, the perfume of Tet*
From my body, awaked the sunshive morning liberating the tight of my cheart-rose
Beautifully put on the vase of longevity- water.

*: “ This cake looks like the earth, which has plants and fields, hence its colour is green and it is square shaped. Inside the cake , there is meat and beans representing alnimals and plants. To make the round rice cake, letes steam glutinous rice, grind it and shape it into round and arched dumplings, like the heaven…
Since then, a custom is practised by the Vietnamese to make these to types of cakes, called banh chung and banh day, during Tet holidays as offerings to the ancestors.”
(Quoted from The Legend of Banh chung and Banh day – Vietnam Fairy Tales)

NGUYEN HIEP

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.Updated: 28.11.2008.

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