THANKING THE GRASS

The little grass with its tiny yellow flower
blooming spottily
Had come to the point of Cà Mau,
no one knows since when
On the thousand leagues of the Eastern Sea,
the waves surrounded, twisted and pranced
Beating madly at the thin like silk grass root...
The roots were uprooted, the body flowed,
the sprigs tattered and the flowers fell
From flowers drifting around decayed leaves
sprouted green buds
The tiny bud lived precariously and waving
its foot looking for a point to lean on
Living throughout its life without ceasing to be frail
After the mangrove died, the brine tree also died
Hugging the silt, drop by drop filled with red
corpuscles
The grass suddenly grew and sank under salted water
Stirringly emerged from wrinkled strong waves
Having the grass means having the ground
The ground turned sweeter and sweeter amidst
the immense salted sea
And the grass silently bore the destiny
Of people who had enlarged the frontier
and safeguarded the homeland...
The forgotten grass was lonely at the horizon
It lived an enduring life to bring about life
The ground is being born, encroaching areas
of immense sea
All had originated from this very leaf of grass
The unfortunate, weather-beaten and tiny leaf of grass
Calmly confronted the salt and storms
Behind the grass was an immense peninsula
Looking like a huge ploughshare going through
the ocean...
Coming to the peak of the last land of all countries
I respectfully bowed down to the GRASS
The grass continued to be magnanimous, gentle, and tiny
And anonymous among thousands of vague worlds...
Point of Cà Mau 1-1-1999

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VŨ ANH TUẤN

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