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Delicious wound ...
Here's an old posting, for your enjoyment. It's only
fitting that it should be dedicated to the memory of
my latest "ex-prospective-bf"! Gee, what's with me
to keep falling for people who are either incapable or
unwilling to return my feelings? Oh well, c'est la
vie! C'est ma vie! Tant pis!
Once a soft-hearted sentimental fool ...
always an incorrigibly soft-hearted sentimental fool ...
Vinh.
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Forwarded message:
From: Vinh Nguyen <email>
Subject: Delicious wound ...
To: <email> (Netlist VN-GBLF)
Date: Wed, 10 Jul 1996 03:53:37 -0400 (EDT)
> .... When this master
> of destruction, of self-destruction, wounds himself, it is
> that very wound that forces him to live. (257)
>
> Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
This chilling line from Nietzsche reminds me of the concluding
sentiment expressed by Xua^n Die^.u -- Vietnam's preeminent gay
poet of the 20th century - in a favorite poem of mine. I've
tried my hand at a translation but gave up on it when I found
a masterly rendition by Huy`nh Sanh Tho^ng which I'll attach
below for the benefit of the non-Vietnamese readers. -- Vinh.
Da.i Kho+`
Ngu+o+`i ta kho^? vi` thu+o+ng kho^ng pha?i ca'ch,
ye^u sai duye^n, va` me^'n cha(?ng nha(`m ngu+o+`i.
Co' kho va`ng nhu+ng ta(.ng cha(?ng tu`y no+i,
ngu+o+`i ta kho^? vi` xin kho^ng pha?i cho^~.
DDu+o+`ng e^m qua', ai ddi ma` nho+' ngo',
dde^'n khi hay, gai nho.n dda~ va`o xu+o+ng.
Vi` tha? lo`ng kho^ng ki`m che^' da^y cu+o+ng,
ngu+o+`i ta kho^? vi` lui kho^ng ddu+o+.c nu+~a.
Nhu+~ng ma('t ca.n cu~ng cho ra(`ng sa^u chu+'a,
nhu+~ng tim kho^ng ma` tu+o+?ng tu+o+.ng tra`n dda^`y.
Muo^n nghi`n ddo+`i ti`m co+' do~i su+o+ng ma^y,
da^'n tha^n ma~i dde^? kie^'m tro+`i du+o+'i dda^'t.
Ngu+o+`i ta kho^? vi` co^' chen ngo~ cha^.t,
cu+?a ddo'ng bu+ng ne^n ca`ng quye^'t xo^ng va`o.
Ro^`i bi. thu+o+ng ngu+o+`i ta giu+~ gu+o+m ddao,
kho^ng muo^'n chu+~a, kho^ng chi.u la`nh thu' ddo^.c.
Xua^n Die^.u, Gu+?i Hu+o+ng Cho Gio'
A fool in love
You suffer as you stray and lose your heart,
adore the wrong one, and misplace your love.
Your gold you lavish where it goes to waste;
you suffer as you beg where one won't give.
It seems so smooth, the road - who will beware?
When you come to, the thorn has stung your bone.
You lax the reins and let your heart run loose -
you suffer as you can't turn back again.
You peer in shallow eyes, discover depths;
you fancy riches stored in vacuous hearts.
Forever you'll pursue sheer mists or clouds,
intent on finding heaven here on earth.
You suffer, squeezing through a narrow gate -
the door's shut tight, so harder you will pounce.
When stabbed and injured, you will keep the knife
and won't be healed of your delicious wound.
- Xuan Dieu, Sending Fragrance to the Wind
translated by Huynh Sanh Thong
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