Once upon a time, in a city, there was a poet who wrote in a style, no one cared enough to find out.
When this poet published his poems, there was a critic who wrote about this poet. The critic wrote in a style, no one cared enough to find out.
When the poet got married and they had children, his wife didn’t have a job either. What they lived on, no one cared enough to find out.
The rented house where they lived always leaked when it rained. Whenever it rained, what did the poet do, no one cared enough to find out.
When the poet’s daughter was born, she was like an angel. Where did the poet get the money to buy formula to feed her, no one cared enough to find out.
But what people do know was that, to live in a city like his, everything was expensive. What one can not buy was even more expensive.
Hence, whether it’s a job as security guard, fanning coals to light fires, kitchen hand chopping meat and vegetables, washing dishes and clearing tables, hanging backdrops and curtains, cleaning theatres and selling tickets to tea room… anywhere in this city one can find and meet the poet.
Perhaps it is the reason why the city is still called a city of poetry possibly?
Image: Seoul, Korea. Photography by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm / Blog`s Author
Lê Vĩnh Tài, the poet and translator born in 1966 in Buon Ma Thuot, Daklak, Vietnam. The retired doctor is still a resident of the Western Highlands and a businessman in Buon Ma Thuot.
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the blogger, poet, and translator, was born in 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.
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