Best 10 Poems by Poet Du Tử Lê

Thuỵ Du's Verse

1.
like a bird fortune-telling for fish
on a sharp stake for a hundred years
I seek life lost
in the clumsiness of life's water

like a bird fortune-telling for fish
I often pause my wings
look up at the tombstone
flock of vultures gnawing human flesh
(fresh flesh surrendered)
which meal could be better
how can I say

like a bird fortune-telling for fish
I dive deep into the mud
in vain searching for meaning
for today's scene of love

on the unwashed body
on the unripe flesh
on the arm bitten by a dog
on the pig's head left
I live like a blind man
I live like a madman
I become a bird fortune-telling for fish
diving to find my square life

on the silent natural ground
no sound emerges

life lives like a mushroom
each day it shrinks
our soul sticks
who will be like me?

2.
smooth like death
desolate like childhood
never once blossomed
on the flagpole not flying
her eyes don't close
her hands aren't thin
her hair at night
tightly embraces long love

my chest full of sunshine and fire
talk about life
what else do I have to live for
talk about life
when I no longer exist
what can I bring
to the other side of the world
Thuỵ oh and Thuỵ oh

I become a headless ghost
I become a bellyless ghost
I only have legs
or just hands
touching to find the body
searching for the heart
mingled with the shell of bullets
sticking together with bomb fragments
Thuỵ oh and Thuỵ oh
never ask me again
why we love each other
why my lips are hot
why my hands are cold
why my body trembles
why my feet are unsteady
why I curse you
let me breathe
with your chest shedding sorrow
let me hug
you, equal to death

love is like a knife
I stab myself, hold the handle
Thuỵ oh and Thuỵ oh

nothing means anything anymore
except my love your love
soaked in the body

I lull myself to sleep with the scent
waiting for a clear hour

(03-68)

This poem was set to music by composer Anh Bằng. Regarding the title of the poem, Thuỵ is the first name of Mrs. Thuỵ Châu, the poet's ex-wife, while Du is taken from the pen name of the poet.

Source: Du Tử Lê's Poetry (1967-1972), published by Gìn Vàng Giữ Ngọc, Saigon, 1972

Not Only Battle But Also Loneliness

just remembering you fills my life
birds return to the corner of the sea. Shadows venture
my heart sinks low. Soul feels lonely
not only battle but also loneliness.

just remembering you fills my life
evening blankets, pillows lacking breath of someone!
you left, leaving behind a naive soul
me, caught in deep early morning sadness.

just remembering you fills my life
do you still keep the comb to mark your path?
dreaming of your fragrant hair on the promised shoulder
and the sky, so blue it makes one shiver.

just remembering you fills my life
excess fingers parted ways
(even our engaged fingers wore no rings)
and the fading remnants of my age.

just remembering you fills my life
like the sky remembers the land (very far away.)
sun and rain forever remember the waiting eaves
letters remembered echoed. Tears remembered lips.

*

just remembering you fills the river dry
what's different in other lives or afterlife.
sometimes feeling warmth on skin, flesh
as if someone just returned from a journey.




1990

This poem was set to music by composer Trần Duy Đức into the song Just Remembering You Fills My Life.

Night, Missing Saigon Moon

As night falls along tire tracks I, a distant moon, search for the golden youth in me Seeking me are the lanterns in two rows Lost at the end of streets, veiled in mist of trees
I mistakenly thought our souls were from a land of rain My drum calls out each day, each day further away
As night falls, trailing behind the wheels I miss you, the highway, and Hang Xanh bridge I miss your needle threading love The obedient noon, the gentle afternoon in bamboo clusters
I miss the sad rain across Thị Nghè canal The sunlight of Trương Minh Giản, summer noon of Freedom
I miss the cemetery of hometown friends I miss the dusty streets, statues of melancholic soldiers
As night falls along tire tracks I, a distant moon, lament for your sadness, which shore are you on?

In the Hands of the Saint, My Life

Ask the Lord, then you shall know I'm as sorrowful as the old street, as worn-out hands Each toe hesitates, ceases to breathe Lost the path, markings vanish

Ask the sun, then you shall know I'm as thin as leaves, light as clouds Night winds blow, shedding countless confessions In paradise, am I the one or another?

Ask the wind, then you shall know I'm a smoke-obscured figure, dust-filled
Who doesn't cast stones at me, who knows? Only you keep flying above the trees

Ask the hair! Rivers of joy and sorrow Like me, nearing the end of life
Brain dried, numb. Hearing from the earth A distant call, oh saintly woman

Ask the eyes, they'll see tall forests Deep seas beneath, low nights of hometown Mount Sọ's road, no one waits I ask myself: where are you now?

Ask the lips! Are they still salty? Rubbing my heart, what's the use? Only regret, no time for another life Door opens but I can't return

Ask the heart! What does it say? Blood still hidden, sometimes Only letting you know my soul is obscured Behind rows of trees that have shed their leaves

Ask the Lord! He'll answer In the hands of the saint lies my life.

This poem has been set to music by composer Hoàng Thanh Tâm with the same title.

Source: Du Tử Lê, In a Place Beyond Human Understanding, Witness Literature Publishing, 1989

When I Die, Take Me to the Sea

When I die, take me to the sea A life adrift, without a single grave Strange land, flesh and bone reluctant to part How can the soul return home?

When I die, take me to the sea The tide will carry my body away Beyond the ocean lies my homeland Where ancient bamboo still thrives

When I die, take me to the sea And please, don't rush to close my eyes Let me gaze towards my homeland one last time Who knows if my body will reach its destination?

When I die, take me to the sea Don't hesitate for fear of sorrow Those who once praised me, what difference will it make To add another bent and twisted body?

When I die, take me to the sea So I can reunite with my children To see their tears shed From eyes darker than the night

When I die, take me to the sea And along the way, remember to sing the national anthem It's been so long since anyone has sung it (The song now like a ghost)

When I die, that sorrow will end A life adrift finally at peace with the soul.

This poem has been set to music by composer Phạm Đình Chương with the same title.

Source: Du Tử Lê, In a Place Beyond Human Understanding, Witness Literature Publishing, 1977

The Song of Separation, Mountains and Rivers

Divide the mountains and rivers: night reveals its face
Rain wraps memories deep in childhood
Divide the physical body: lost in darkness
Which cemetery is ours? Where do we bury each other?

Divide the hearts: canals and dried channels
The scent of hair seeking shoulders scattered
Thoughts of injustice just turned away
Bones, flesh, future generations, blood so sad

Divide the winds: trees parted
Hearts wounded along with lips, months, years
Punishment across the passionate forest memories
A hundred-year stream suddenly loses its source.

1993

This poem has been set to music by composer Trần Duy Đức as the song A Hundred-Year Stream.

K. A Song for You Alone

I am far from you like distant mountains and rivers
Are you across the stream? – beyond the forest
Are you in the sunlight? – amidst the wind
I am but a mist rising, vast and endless

I am far from you like the Eastern Sea
Evening rises, the horizon stretches out
The trees bear witness to the day you arrived
But perished since the night the rain didn't pass

I am far from you, far from those greedy lips
You know: soon you'll be like a thousand birds
No longer need to flap around
My soul has long been ashes

I am far from you, far from those gentle eyes
My garden's moon turns cold, desolate
You're too far, how could you know
My dialect is still tangled up

I am far from you, far from the airport's runway
My soul, a trace of footsteps in the sand
You're happy in another life, how could you understand
I live quietly like grass and trees

I am far from you, far from the stinging smoke
Tomorrow love will leave this heart
If in the evening you don't come, even
The trees will lean down: each branch trembling

I am far from you, far from those hands, joyful
Hands with fingers that buried a lifetime
Hands with fingers without rings
A finger reserved just for my lips

I am far from you, far from the deep affection
Spring flowers have withered, the house's gate
Your old street once tied two ponytails
Now where does your hair go? – where does the soul reside?

I am far from you, far from the passionate longing
My soul is dry, the strings of the zither
My blood has been sent into words
Though dead, the lament remains

I am far from you, far from a fragrance
A midnight shore, a soul lost in paradise
Who remembers someone fainting on a shoulder of the shirt
Where does the rain return? – like a wound

This poem has been set to music by composer Đăng Khánh as the song K. Melody by Lê.

67, An Addition for Huyen Chau

My joy stems from days of vast waters
The sky quickly strokes my face with rain
Old sparrows linger on the gray tiled evening
The sky hesitates, feet linger but do not return
Dream trees bloom with each finger, each tender leaf
A cradle of longing, warm with human flesh

I sob from your abruptly cold eyes
Lips dry from the time I begged for a kiss
Summer days turn cold without turning frost
You, without turning, walk away with disdain
Fingers linger with the scent of hair
Distant bamboo follows murmuring memories
Someone's footsteps still echo yesterday
Words intoxicate heaven and earth once more
My memories stem from the days of broken promises
Carefully gathering each fallen strand

A small cicada grows into a nightingale
When night falls, its lullaby is sadder
The young tree buds in innocence
Leaves rustle on the human roof

I bow from those who carry the wind
A sad cicada suicides in the misty night
Old sparrows quietly pass away
The ancient bamboo, aged, mourns silently

You remain there, the riverbank still moist with sand
The waves of love forever ripple a forgotten tune.

1967

This poem has been set to music by composer Tu Cong Phung as the song On the Peak of Love.

Hexameter, 70

I walk through the night, rain pouring down,
In hexameter, I see you at noon, coming home.

I walk through the oath we once swore,
I see my childish poetry amidst war's chaos.

I walk through the shades of green,
On the canvas, veins of sorrow emerge.

I walk through the scent of incense,
It feels like morning, a graceful melody... of wounds.

I walk through roots, sources,
I see you. So much love. Mistakenly choosing me. Illusion!

I walk through future lives,
I see us, needles pointing, waiting, weary.

I walk against the currents of time,
Seeing a tiny you. Once sucking on your thumb.

I walk through dreams,
Ah! Six words fitting... seventy!

I walk through life's journey,
It feels like hexameter, each line a cradle.

Drifting along this river of self...

(Nov. 2012)

This poem has been set to music by composer Khoa Nguyen as the song When You Return at Noon.

Gratitude to You
Thanks to you, a naive poetry from the sky,
Followed me to the sea, salvaging my drifting life.
Thanks to you, a dreamy figure amidst pouring rain,
Accompanied me up the mountains, back to the hills of love.
Thanks to you, a tender chest and tranquil lips,
Providing me with salty grass, a hundred times, obedient leaves.
Thanks to you, a fleeting breath in a resting place,
Encircling traces, entangling sorrows in one spot.
Thanks to you, a love like blurred vision,
Like a small worm crawling through buried dreams.
Thanks to you, a soul sorrowful early on,
In the next life, let's preserve this life for each other.
Thank you, my love… thank you, my love…

This poem has been set to music by composer Từ Công Phụng as the song Keeping Life for Each Other.