The poem 'Mùa Khổ - Người Đàn bà Phú Yên' invites readers to a narrative poem on the death of a mother in Phu Yen province, Vietnam. The mother, due to poverty of her family and lack of health service in her region, had asked her husband to cut open her womb with a kitchen knife to save her baby child in a difficult birth. Unlike her baby, she did not survive. Her death was in the news announced by the SBS Radio (Australia) in its special 1996 Mothers' Day Program. A rough translation of the poem Mua Kho from Vietnamese to English is given below. Vietnam A Season Of passions People are suffering In time of dormant rhymes and rhythms A mother in Phu Yen Her body : her homeland Bearing deep knife cuts her skin torn and sewn up by corroded needle poor disordered flimsy cotton threads and knots Bruised flesh Red blood Paddy fields awaiting her and her husband's labor Hospital is as far away as the Milky Way Crying, is she? -- No Shouting? -- No Screaming at end of a bearing season? -- No Murmuring, yes! Her murmurs, only her murmurs '..Patient...my child...patient...let's wait for the salvation of the knife!' The long kitchen knife pierced through her skin It cut her flesh Sharp, deep and long pain sneaks in its heart through the grinding teeth Corroded sewing needle and flimsy cotton threads in unskilled hands They break and disintegrate In silence: she dies Her baby cries The harvest, swiftly, passes away Its body hangs across the sky Joy of rhythms and rhymes Joy of a new harvest of post-modernist time Joy of an abysmal season of renovation Thoughts cranks out its laughter through aching bleeding decayed teeth On the dancing old wobbly bamboo bed The baby cries, cries and cries... Death is still around The old rags sing out Their existence Soaked in blood of a loveless ism Neck of intelligence Tightened by the biblical cord The cold knife continued its work Razing down all the summits, the disgusting summits of intelligence Milk flows freely, in abundance Flow of violent red milk in unsated thirst for live things Day passes out pensively Night's filled with sorrowful moonshines Out of the milkful breast of the moon shadow Some greyish white milk drops of her motherland Oh The baby wants milk Smooching air through closed lips So loud smooching sounds The moon smiles Letting its shadow join the baby in a play A white nix milkflow is tossed into the baby's mouth Passing by innocent pale lips The mother passes away The father sings a lullaby 'Au O...my child! 'Stretch your arm out to take the moon lantern! 'Go and fetch your mother for she is waiting in the dark porch ... Light just grins in total darkness The deformed moon is hanging at top of the tall old tree Days are passed with deep sleep and smiling dreams Soul flaps its wings Wildly and primitively The universe starts bearing milky grains with wild sun ripened color Deep in this season of passions Crowds of people so lonely So lonely their mouths fly up in the sky Their ears are listening to the call of her poor imprisoning homeland And they sang sad lullabies Through the whole dark nights Hearts escape lightnings Flowers, birds and the sun wake up by wonders in the dark of night Rhymes and rhythms flap their wings Gazing at life full of hi-tech color Feather of victory in mouth Life's flowers are blooming on the belly and demanding right to life Dađy returns to the pađy field He stops singing sad lullabies Strings attached to the past start breaking up
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Thuyen Xa Ben Do - Nhu Quynh, Tuy Hoa, Phu Yen 09-2007by Phuyenvacation100,844 views
i'm from phu yen
but i don't know her
MrVampireclick 1 year ago
Mùa Khổ
(Người đàn bà Phú Yên)
Vietpostscriptum 2 years ago
r u vietnamesse cuz iam WOOT
SuperZwINK 2 years ago
Phạm Lưu Vũ: Tôi muốn nói những điều như tác phẩm đã thể hiện (cả trong lẫn ngoài). Tôi là 24 chữ cái trong tác phẩm của mình. (talawas)
Vietpostscriptum 4 years ago
Spring passes out
The Mother of Phu Yen shakes off her dress and returns it to this world
Flying and flying! Her dress takes its dreamy flight over the wind swept country road
The child survives
Ugly survival? Beautiful? Clean? Dirty? Untidy? -- Who cares!
You embrace your poor life with a whole-hearted smile and loud laughters, my child!
77cheese 4 years ago