A poem in Vietnamese by Nguyễn Thị Linh NhânTranslator: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm In her hands fading grey are the strands of timea sickle turning over the soil the anticipation of smell of bitter sweata patch of brown earth greenerby the day more fruit and flowersand the early morning birdsongs and school books mother mending […]

Mother mending again her youth | Nguyễn Thị Linh Nhân