I know not, indeed. I know not, of the weary train carrying southbound wounds bandaged, tethered, then returned up north
and it remains, at the same spot like this steaming bowl of soup we consume consume, consume, consume, consume consume until the marrow of days and ages consumed still, it remains at the same spot, remains.
(hunger)
I know not, indeed. I know not, to jump on the rusty feeble horse of nighttime wobbling across the deep dark wood clogged with rimes: rice frogs, insects, woodpeckers whose tap tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, reminds that, know, know, know, know, know, I know not.
- Trúc Ty - translated by Ngân - photo by Alice Pedroletti