Nhã Thuyên

Nhã Thuyên was born in 1986 in Việt Nam and works as a writer and editor in Hà Nội. Her most recent books are bất\ \tuẫn: những hiện diện [tự-] vắng trong thơ Việt and its English edition: un\ \martyred: [self-]vanishing presences in Vietnamese poetry (Roofbook, USA, 2019) and moon fevers (Tilted Axis Press, UK, 2019). Her main practices are writing between languages, experimenting with translations, and poetic exchanges. With Kaitlin Rees, she founded AJAR in 2014, a micro bilingual literary journal-press, a precariously online, printed space for poetic exchange. She otherwise talks to walls and soliloquies nonsense when having no other emergencies of life to deal with. Her next book of poetry vị nước (taste of waters) is waiting to see the moon.

no land promise [4]

this place has gone months without rain, worms don’t hatch in time for the bird beaks of a drought, eggs get dispersed from their nests beneath leaves too parched, that’s right, that gardener, twenty years rhythm of turning on sprinklers, …

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2 Nhã Thuyên Translations by Kaitlin Rees

this room’s determined to not let in anyone more, someone rumbles, so should i just leave now then, is there still time, sham, someone grumbles, so should i leave and wait for someone to invite me

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Feminine Beings: A Resonance of Voices in Vietnamese Poetry

The authors I touch upon in this essay – perhaps not the female poets most in accordance with my personal taste – share a common story in which I am more or less implicated.

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