A Vietnamese Poem: The Cherished Daughter

There's a suggestion of a story here in a poetic form.  It took me several readings to pick up
several hints.  Part of my problem is my ignorance of Vietnamese culture, so I'm still not
certain that I have correctly or fully grasped it. 

The Cherished Daughter

Mother, I am eighteen this year

and still without a husband.
What, Mother, is your plan?
The magpie brought two matchmakers
and you threw them the challenge:
not less than five full quan,
five thousand areca nuts,
five fat pigs,
and five suits of clothes.

Mother, I am twenty-three this year

and still without a husband.
What, Mother, dear, is your plan?
The magpie brought two matchmakers
and you threw them the challenge:
not less than three full quan,
three thousand areca nuts,
three fat pigs,
and three suits of clothes.

Mother, I am thirty-two this year

and still without a husband.
What, Mother, darling, is your plan?
The magpie brought two matchmakers
and you threw them the challenge:
not less than one full quan,
one thousand areca nuts,
one fat dog this time,
and one suit of clothes.

Mother, I am forty-three this year.

Still without a husband.
Mother, look, Mother,
will you please just give me away?

-- Anonymous  (c. 1700 AD)--

trans.  Nguyen Ngoc Bich
from World Poetry:  An Anthology of Verse from Antiquity to Our Time
Inside Submarines

by Phan Nhien Hao

tr. Linh Dinh

We live inside odd-shaped submarines

chasing after secrets and the darkness of the ocean
on a voyage toward plastic horizons
where vague connections can never be reached
and hopes are not deployed
before the storm arrives and the alarm command starts
to rouse the last illusions to stand up and put life jackets on
looking to each other for help

Once I was at the equator

trying to slice the earth in half along the dotted line
but someone held my hand and said:
“If you do that, friend, water will fall into the void,
and then our submarine
won’t have any place to dive.”

Phan Nhiên Hạo was born in Kontum, Vietnam in 1967 and immigrated to the U.S. in 1991.
He is the author of two collections of poems in Vietnamese,  Thiên Đường Chuông
Giấy (Paradise of Paper Bells, 1998) and  Chế Tạo Thơ Ca 99-04 (Manufacturing Poetry 99-
04, 2004). In 2006, Tupelo Press published Night, Fish, and Charlie Parker, a bilingual
poetry collection translated by Linh Dinh.

Linh Dinh ’s latest books are Postcards from the End of America (nonfiction) and A Mere Rica (poetry).

Slaughter

Dewdrops

absurdity

Partitioned

Magpie

antiquity