About an old candle stick
(For Ambassador Saadi Salama)

I tried to buy a beautiful old candle stick from an old Palestinian Muslim woman who was selling antiques on the side of Jordan River. But she did not sell it. I asked her why she put it out with the other antiques and she said she brought it so that it would always be by her side. Then I learn that the candle stick is from her son’s house that was destroyed by rockets. Her son died with his wife and child. I held the candle stick for a long time as if I held the bodies and a strange feeling overcame me. She asked me where I came from. I said Vietnam. She let out a light gasp and repeated “Vietnam.” At the end, she told me to take the candle stick home if I wanted to and did not take any money. Sometimes I light a candle with that candle stick.

The light in the eyes of the candle stick’s owner is off
Darkness fills the house of memories
The stories of the suffering mother
Never stop being told

One night, I light up a candle on that old candle stick
Suddenly someone calls me
No, it is a cry
I turn around and see
My shadow on the wall
Is pulling my shirt


[Thông tin 1 nguồn tham khảo đã được ẩn]
"Vũ tâm son sắt giữa đất trời,
Phong sương mặc kệ, chí chẳng vơi.
Lĩnh cao một cõi hiên ngang đứng,
Soi rọi nghìn năm đất muôn nơi."