Sitting and playing with dust - A poem by Que Huong

ILLUSTRATION: VAN NGUYEN

People wish they had a room filled with luxurious and comfortable furnishings.

As for me,

I wish for an empty room.

Bathed in sunshine

Overwhelmed with wind

The wind carries dust.

Of the stars that have faded.

On the day I wasn't there

Of distant, drifting souls.

Who knows, maybe some molecules from the last breath of Christ, of Buddha… who knows!

Dust from countless eons

Wind from countless directions

Who gently touched my heart?

A sigh like a scratch mark

Or is it mine?

In the empty room

I learned to be silent.

The lizard clicked its tongue as an interpreter.

The Voice of the Walls

The room is empty.

Full of dust brought home

I,

He who will turn to dust

Sitting and playing with dust

In a silent party.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/ngoi-choi-voi-bui-tho-cua-que-huong-185260516155737993.htm