Saturday, September 9, 2023

Bones

 By Tararith Kho

Through the field to the dwellings,

Grass covers the ground of cruel things;

The past still stays; they remain:

Misery and pain, like shadows.

The palms used to stand in the field,

But they have now disappeared

Because someone cut and cleared them; without caring

Someone wanted them gone.

Temples were not temples;

No monks inside, no sermons, no worshiping;

Black dresses were everywhere; they came, covered,

And changed this nation, our nation, in all directions.

Bones were found everywhere;

People were scared, we were shocked;

Khmer killed Khmer, same nation; For what reason?

For Angkar.*

Justice is what Khmer needs;

To reveal the hidden truth;

Who was Angkar? Khmer was killed for what?

Justice for Khmer, for millions of bones.

Bones are bones.

No soul can point, no soul can show;

The enemy is around, harming us every day.

 

*Note from the Poet: Angkar means organization. (“Khmer Rouge used this word to lead Cambodia. We didn’t know who was Angkar? When the Khmer Rouge wanted to catch or kill people, they said: ‘This is by order of Angkar.’”)

- Trans. Aisha Down

Saturday, September 2, 2023

Days of the Seasons

 By Tararith Kho

Some months, the falling rains leave the land covered—

The plants put up new shoots. Young birds hatch, and they beat their wings for happiness.

Untaught of hunger or fear, for the trees are fruiting—

And there are waters enough for all the fish to live in.

In the season of winds, the flowers call after us. And all eyes must follow.

Bees exult in the abundant pollen;

And every kind of flower is silent,

But when the bold black bee leaves a bloom, she wilts and fades.

In the hot season the land cracks open in the shimmering air.

All living things see themselves exactly in their urgency;

The trees have no leaves, and beasts and humans trace their shapes in their shadows.

Which reflect high on the land, some long, some short, some black: none can be touched.

Every separate body dream of the season that is coming, the face of which will renew happiness.

They lived their days according to one another, forgetting to shelter civilization.

Now their dreams are empty; now their hands alone can reckon—

How many happy seasons remain, if suffering has more than we can count? 


–Trans. Aisha Down

Coconut Town

By Tararith Kho

Coconut town in the Romeah Haik District—

Inheritance from a mother, kept to be given—

A house and land, a storehouse with rice—

For days ahead, for sons and grandsons.

 The shoots we sowed are getting tall.

In the fields you can see the grains we scattered.

The coconut palms pierce the green grass.

No one is there to hear the cry,

The sound of our sorrow: All that has a memory should wail.

The land is unchanging, but its owners are sick.

Their flesh is persecuted,

And the new shoots sprouting erase their names.

From this coconut town, Cambodian town, ever-changing town:

In 1992, this Vietnamese town.


- Trans. Aisha Down

Flower Bloom of Cambodia

 

By Tararith Kho

Flourishing through every season, at all times fresh:

Angkor flower, clinging fast,

You sow your perfume and our hearts are sated.

We know your fragrance as the deepest touch;

Not a screen to hide the body— It stills our limbs, and we are taken.

There is nothing that can shake the hearts lodged within it.

This perfume wakes the feelings;

Out of the quiet, we remember times past.

If we lost this bloom, all the stories would go with it.

 This fragrance is the message we defend for our children:

The goodness of this Cambodian land,

These fields of rice, these mines, and jungles.

We have seen the evidence, in the south—

To lose the land is to lose our name.

To lose it all would be to live on earth with nothing to recognize:

A scentless blossom, season after season: An empty wind.


 –Trans. Aisha Down

Friday, July 7, 2023

ឆ្នាំងបាយ

By Tararith

ឆ្នាំងអើយគេដាក់ដាំអាហារ
ភ្លើងរាប់អង្សាដុតកំដៅ
ទាំងបាតទាំងគ្របផ្សែងរោលខ្មៅ
ជួនបាយខ្លោចឆៅម្ចាស់បោកប្រាស។
ឆ្នាំងនៅលើភ្លើងរៀងរាល់ថ្ងៃ
ច្រើនកាសសម័យទ្រាំខ្លាំងណាស់
បាយកកបាយក្ដាំងស្គាល់ឆ្នាំងច្បាស់
តែម្ចាស់រមិលមិនស្គាល់គុណ

វត្តបឹងជ្រោ

By Tararith

វត្តបឹងជ្រោជ្រងោឈរចាំ               ដីខ្មែររាប់ឆ្នាំពីដូនតា
អារាមដំណែលពុទ្ធសាសនា          តំណាងខេមរាមកហូរហែ។
បឹងជ្រោបង្ហូរអស់ទឹកភ្នែក              អាល័យស្ដាយពេកឱដីខ្មែរ
អំពៅយួនដុះជំនួសស្រែ                អ្នកថែផងដែរជំនួសគ្នា។
ម្ដងម្ដុំបើផ្គុំធំពេកហើយ                 ឈូសឆាយបង្ហើយចូលដល់ធ្លា
អារាមបឹងជ្រោនឹងអស់ងារ             ពីកម្ពុជាមិនខានឡើយ។
ប្រជាឃុំជាំទ្រាំពេកណាស់             នាំគ្នាបម្រះហែលរកត្រើយ
ប្ដឹងហើយតែគ្មានឡើយចម្លើយ      យួនច្រៀកគ្មានស្បើយដីវត្តជ្រោ៕