Có một người tôi yêu hơn tất thảy
Nên tôi đem giấu thật xa

Thôi muốn thu người yêu tôi thành que kim
Giấu trong cánh rừng già
Hay thành một vỏ sò bé
Giấu ở nơi tận cùng sóng vỗ

ví dù người có phụ ta
thì ta chỉ nguyện thành ra con bò
con bò rất ít so đo
yêu ai chỉ biết lò dò đi theo
dù cho đứa đó lật kèo

Tenderness and Rot

Tenderness and rot
share a border.
And rot is an
aggressive neighbor
whose iridescence
keeps creeping over.

No lessons
can be drawn
from this however.

One is not
two countries.
One is not meat
corrupting.

It is important
to stay sweet
and loving.

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that
without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.

Trăm năm là ngắn, một ngày dài ghê

Listen to the arts of kids, their hands when tied have wings.