Issue #21, July, 2001 : -- 1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 -8 -9 -10 -11 -12
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Nguyen Quang Thieu

October Smoke from rice stubble burnt by boys Tending water buffalo after harvest Carries the taste of October into my heart. Once, wind rose up through stubble And made a magic song. I thought someone hid behind it, Calling me to come, and I went, I went. I went beyond October, Beyond my mother calling at evening, Where clouds rose like great hills of straw. My footprints in the field covered a calf's And the calf's covered mine. I went until darkness stood before me, questioning me. I hurried to return; I started crying. I saw only the calf's footprints And thought a magician had turned me into a calf. That October is gone, that smoke is gone. I am waiting I am waiting for a magician Flying back from November To turn me back into that calf.

in Vietnamese

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Issue #21, July, 2001 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.