Poetry distilled from storms by Phan Xuan Luat

His poems were published while he was still in high school in Nghe An, then his writing flourished intensely when he studied literature at Hanoi University. Yet, after tirelessly pursuing a career in journalism, Phan Xuan Luat only timidly contributed his poetry collection, *Tiếng làng* (Village Voices), to the publication after the age of 60 (Vietnam Writers Association Publishing House, 2024), containing over 70 poems.

Journalist and poet Phan Xuan Luat (Director of Phu Yen Radio and Television Station)

PHOTO: DAO DUC TUAN

In "Village Sounds, " I encountered again a poem that had long been a topic of discussion among students:

I miss Hanoi so much!

The fragrant milk flower lulls the sleep of autumn.

The crocodiles watched the people strolling in the afternoon.

The leaves of the Terminalia catappa tree droop sadly, upside down, along the dike.

(Hanoi)

Phan Xuan Luat's poetry is filled with the delicate fragrance and vibrant colors of fragile love and longing:

I opened the garden gate and collected many strange grasses.

And the colors of autumn remain to this day.

(Autumn 2)

The scent of chestnut blossoms is subtly and strangely fragrant.

Tell him that place is me.

(Chestnut blossoms)

I am truly impressed by Phan Xuan Luat's quatrains, especially his six-eight syllable quatrains. They are compressed, condensed, and even vaguely evocative:

We're going back to stamp out our love affair.

Like foam on the water in the flood season, my fate is that of a shrimp or prawn.

A pile of straw was burned in the middle of the field.

Let's hang up to avoid getting too wet, my shrimp and prawn love.

(Stomping)

A lifetime of laughter, a lifetime of heartbreak.

Laughing uncontrollably amidst the precarious surroundings.

Laughter abounds amidst profound sadness.

Laughing in the storm, I find myself at peace.

(Laugh)

That's how much bitterness there is in one day.

It's all that bitterness, and now it's all that sweet fragrance.

Having gone through a lifetime of sorrow and resentment.

A bowl of rice, a token of gratitude for life.

(One day)

I am confronted with verses distilled from storms. Certainly, without storms, there are no poets. Perhaps only poetry can fully express the bitterness of human life. These are the heartfelt lines of Phan's love poems:

Many sleepless nights

Miss you

Sitting like a burning candle

Call

A silent star

(Remember 1)

Bowing down before nothingness

I offer you a candle of twilight.

Spread your hands

lightning

surging waves

Hanging Heart

sad silence

May

(Remember 2)

Oh, I'm going to lull myself to sleep again.

The lullaby brings the image of the baby into the cradle.

I feel sorry for someone

Lull me to sleep the shadow of a time when you were alone

(No title 2)

Phan Xuan Luat wrote about the remote, desolate strip of land in the Mekong Delta:

Mother sings lullabies to her child through the famine... oh...

A child's sleep, once amidst gunfire.

A child's sleep, once interspersed with the sound of waves.

The rice plant goes through a difficult and arduous pregnancy.

(Central region)

Phan Xuan Luat cherishes every word about his mother, about Nghe An, his birthplace:

My mother still wears patched clothes.

Cucumbers and tomatoes all year round

The mist hangs like silver threads.

The scorching sun turned my skin color.

(Mom)

In March, the sound of thunder is different.

The sun was shining, then suddenly an afternoon rain shower came.

The red kapok flower has never failed to keep its promise.

The riverbank was once again ablaze.

(March)

Where did the contractor scatter purple blossoms along the path in the evening?

I'm twenty, walking against the wind on the road.

(Land)

The poetry collection "Village Voices" by journalist and poet Phan Xuân Luật

PHOTO: DAO DUC TUAN

Poets differ in the depth of their emotions. With the land he has lived in for decades, Phan Xuân Luật has written a poem to "repay his debt":

Tuy Hoa

everyday

still windy

Like a note in the blue sky

ancient tower

Like the melody of the blue sea

She skipped along happily.

waves crashing

(Tuy Hoa wind)

A benevolent dream for beauty, for humanity plagued by so much conflict:

The earth calmed down after a day of turmoil.

Perhaps humankind has forgotten about warfare.

...

Seeing how beautiful you are, I suddenly become a poet.

And tremble to the melody of the moon.

And the wish of humankind forever.

Sleep soundly to the sound of Beethoven's music.

(Moon)

Besides writing poetry about life and love, Phan Xuan Luat is also a writer of children's poetry. He writes from the perspective of his own childhood, the perspective of a father rocking his child to sleep:

The baby's eyes are wide open.

Pure and colorful

The flower bud has just begun to open.

The kite tilts and sways.

(Baby's marble)

The child waited, her eyes red and swollen.

My mother is in an infinite place.

Three bags full of work

She was hunched over and had white hair.

(The child is waiting for dad)

I would like to introduce to you, my kindred spirit, the poetry collection " Village Sounds" by poet Phan Xuân Luật.

Journalist and poet Phan Xuan Luat was born in 1964 in Hoa Thanh, Yen Thanh, Nghe An . He graduated in Literature from Hanoi University. He is currently the Director of Phu Yen Radio and Television Station.

Published books: Tiếng làng ( poetry collection, Vietnam Writers Association Publishing House, 2024 ); forthcoming: Võ Văn Và… ( collection of essays and reportage ), Chuyện làng ( collection of prose ) .

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/tho-chat-tu-bao-dong-cua-phan-xuan-luat-185241121085446955.htm