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  1. #1
    Join Date
    Oct 2011
    Thanked 57 Times in 38 Posts


    Con L Con Mo
    Trạng Quỳnh Của Mạ

    Mạ sinh con đang lc nh ngho kh
    Một phần cơm, khoai sắn độn hai phần
    Thuở ấu thời, mắm c cng muối đậu
    Con đ quen ngon miệng mn nh bần.

    Lc mớ rạm ngoi đồng đem ram muối
    Mu nước ln con bống thệ kho kh
    Những chột nưa mạ nấu cng t ruốc
    Rau tập tng vị ngọt những ngy thơ.

    Đọi rau khoai ngọt ngo con tm đất
    Hũ tp chua c những lt măng vi
    Bnh trng nướng cn thơm mi mt trộn
    Những mn quen con vẫn nhớ trọn đời.

    Ngy mưa bo, trn mm thường trứng luộc
    Trưa ma h, nước rau muống thay canh
    Cht dưa, muối cũng vội vng xong bữa
    Sao mạ hay - ngồi ăn cuối một mnh.

    Con l con mo Trạng Quỳnh cuả mạ
    Đ phận quen ăn những mn ăn ngho
    Trước những mm đầy sơn ho hải vị
    Con dửng dưng như đứa trẻ quen chiều.

    Giờ con đ xa nửa vng tri đất
    Biết khi m mới trở gt quay về
    Trn bếp lưả chụm rơm chiều khi tỏa
    Con c cơm mạ nấu bữa canh me.

    Cho ấm p thm cuộc đời trống lạnh
    Hạnh phc ny xoa diụ tấm lng con
    Khi hơi toả thơm ngt mi gạo mới
    Trn tay con, miếng cơm chy thơm dn.

    Con, đứa trẻ lạc loi trn xứ lạ
    Đang quay cuồng theo cơm o, ngựa xe
    M thương mạ vẫn thường hay tựa cửa
    Bn mm cơm, vắng bng đứa con về.

    Huy Phương

    Mama, I Am Your
    Self-Contented Cat

    You gave birth to me while being destitute:
    Potato or cassava doubling rice each meal to suit.
    Salted egg-plants and peanuts since childhood,
    I had got accustomed to the poor peoples food.

    The crabs from the paddy-fields that you fried,
    The goby from inundation that you cooked dried,
    The chunks of taro you prepared with rousong,
    The sundry veg, that with my youth got along.

    The sweet potato buds, with prawns as spices,
    The soured shrimps, with bamboo shoot slices,
    The grilled pancakes smelling jackfruit, thyme,
    The familiar dishes I remember all my lifetime.

    On stormy days, on the salver were boiled eggs;
    In summer, water spinach for broth without dregs;
    A bit of pickle was enough for a quick repast
    But you Mama always remained alone the last.

    Regals are rich, their cats have delicacies to try;
    I was Mamas cat, only meagre dishes did satisfy.
    So content with my lot that feasts I did not enjoy,
    Indifferent, seeming kittle as a too coshered boy.

    Well, now that I have been a hemisphere away,
    I do not know when I will come back and stay
    There, on the straw fire under smoke you stoop
    To cook with anchovies the eve tamarind soup.

    So that warmth is added to my empty existence:
    Such bliss will appease my heart in this distance,
    With the cooking smelling the new harvest rice,
    And for me a crisp piece of burned rice as a price.

    As a lost young child lonely in a strange land,
    Being whirled along means of livings demand,
    I feel so anxious for Mama against the door-case
    Or by the food tray always longing to see my face.

    Translation by Thanh-Thanh

  2. The Following User Says Thank You to Thanh-Thanh For This Useful Post:

    THANHLOAN (05-13-2018)

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