Poème des chauffeurs de camion sans pare-brise (ii)
From poet Phạm Tiến Duật and La Maison des Éditions en Langues Étrangères
Bài thơ về tiểu đội xe không kính
Truckers Without Windshields
Không có kính không phải vì xe không có kính
Don’t got no windshield but the truck did have one
Bom giật, bom rung kính vỡ đi rồi
Ung dung buồng lái ta ngồi,
Nhìn đất, nhìn trời, nhìn thẳng.
Bomb knocked, bomb rang windshield went to pieces
Now we take our seat inside the cab,
Seeing earth, seeing sky, seeing straight ahead.
Nhìn thấy gió vào xoa mắt đắng
Nhìn thấy con đường chạy thẳng vào tim
Thấy sao trời và đột ngột cánh chim
Như sa, như ùa vào buồng lái
Looking at the wind come rub stung eyes
Looking at the trail run straight into the heart
Seeing stars above and sudden wings of birds
As fall as rush down into the cab
Không có kính, ừ thì có bụi,
Bụi phun tóc trắng như người già
Chưa cần rửa, phì phèo châm điếu thuốc
Nhìn nhau mặt lấm cười ha ha.
Don’t got no windshield, sure got dust,
Dust sprays hair white like an old man
Don’t need to wash yet while we chain smoke
See each other make each other laugh and laugh.
Không có kính, ừ thì ướt áo
Mưa tuôn, mưa xối như ngoài trời
Chưa cần thay, lái trăm cây số nữa
Mưa ngừng, gió lùa khô mau thôi.
Don’t got no windshield, but we got wet shirts
Pouring rain downpour like outside
Don’t need to fix for another hundred klicks
Rain stops wind dries us all out.
Những chiếc xe từ trong bom rơi
Ðã về đây họp thành tiểu đội
Gặp bè bạn suốt dọc đường đi tới
Bắt tay qua cửa kính vỡ rồi.
Trucks from where the bombs fall
Came back here in convoy
We meet friends come up along in line
Shake hands through the windshield gone to pieces.
[Bếp Hoàng Cầm ta dựng giữa trời
Chung bát đũa nghĩa là gia đình đấy
Võng mắc chông chênh đường xe chạy
Lại đi, lại đi trời xanh thêm.]
[We stack up our mess kits in the middle of the sky
Bowl and chopsticks mean family is here
Hammocks hung across the road
Back and forth back and forth more blue sky.]
Không có kính, rồi xe không có đèn,
Không có mui xe, thùng xe có xước,
Xe vẫn chạy vì miền Nam phía trước:
Chỉ cần trong xe có một trái tim.
Don’t got no windshield, never had lights,
Don’t got no hood, body scratched up,
Truck still runs ‘cause the South lies before us:
All the truck needs inside is one heart.
With love to my friend Hữu Ngọc and his chief Nguyẽn Khắc Viện, who edited and published this volume in great hopes for peace in 1977, at the publishing house where Ngọc welcomed me 20 years later and I met Viện on his deathbed around the corner.
This is the second Viet Nam letter of 2 so far addressing Mireille Gansel’s translation “Poème des chauffeurs de camion sans pare-brise” with poet Xuân Diệu and editor Hữu Ngọc from the work of poet Phạm Tiến Duật. The first went out on December 18, 2022.
We twice have addressed as well their translation “Être mère au Viet Nam” from the work of poet Chế Lan Viên. The first appeared on November 30, 2022 and the second on December 27, 2022.
We have written once only on the 3 friends’ translation “Chaque jour je viens quand même” from poet Hoàng Trung Thông on November 7, 2022, “Questions sous terre” from poet Tế Hanh on December 9, 2022, and on “Les fleurs s'ouvrent sur ta tombe” from poet Thanh Hai on February 7, 2023.
We have written letters as well about Sang et Fleurs, her collection of translations with Xuân Diệu from poet Tố Hữu. We sent the first of 5 on February 28, 2023, the second on March 3, 2023, the third on March 9, 2023, the fourth on March 12, 2023, and the fifth on March 24, 2023.
We have written once so far about Mireille Gansel’s recollection and study of translation, Traduire Comme Transhumer.
Viet Nam letters respects the property of others under paragraph 107 of United States Code Title 17. If we asked for permission it wouldn’t be criticism. We explain our fair use at length in the letter of September 12, 2022.