là một tập thơ của Agha Shahid Ali. Tôi tìm thấy chỉ dẫn về nó trong một quyển sách của Salman Rushdie : "Shalimar the clown". Mà "Shalimar the clown", tôi lại tìm thấy ở một cửa hàng sách second hand ở Hội An.
I am being rowed through Paradise in a river of Hell:
Exquisite ghost, it is night.
The paddle is a heart; it breaks the porcelain waves.
It is still night. The paddle is a lotus.
I am rowed- as it withers-toward the breeze which is soft as
if it had pity on me.
If only somehow you could have been mine, what wouldn't
have happened in the world?
I'm everything you lost. You won't forgive me.
My memory keeps getting in the way of your history.
There is nothing to forgive.You can't forgive me.
I hid my pain even from myself; I revealed my pain only to myself.
There is everything to forgive. You can't forgive me.
If only somehow you could have been mine,
what would not have been possible in the world?
L'homme est une passion inutile...
Exquisite ghost, it is night.
The paddle is a heart; it breaks the porcelain waves.
It is still night. The paddle is a lotus.
I am rowed- as it withers-toward the breeze which is soft as
if it had pity on me.
If only somehow you could have been mine, what wouldn't
have happened in the world?
I'm everything you lost. You won't forgive me.
My memory keeps getting in the way of your history.
There is nothing to forgive.You can't forgive me.
I hid my pain even from myself; I revealed my pain only to myself.
There is everything to forgive. You can't forgive me.
If only somehow you could have been mine,
what would not have been possible in the world?
Tôi đọc đoạn farawell này lúc đi ra khỏi Le Belhamy. Giấc ngủ tại cửa biển An Bàng dập dềnh đầy mơ mị. Chỉ cần nhắc với mình duy nhất một chuyện : tôi không còn 18 nữa, vĩnh viễn không còn 18 nữa rồi.
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