Poem for Writer Nhat Tien
By Phan Tan Hai
Opening the book, reading a few pages,
the words shine like precious jade—
a hidden diamond strength
stepping past the realm of sorrow.
The young girl’s laughter of long ago
echoes along the lines;
a strand of hair tied into the poem,
waiting for some future life of peace.
Following the Buddha pointing at the moon,
I mistake it again for a jade hand;
wading endlessly through the stream of prose,
someone’s laughter sounds like weeping.
A time when hair was very green,
a time of ten thousand words;
now the smile is soundless,
now the words are wordless.
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