{"id":365,"date":"2011-08-27T04:29:07","date_gmt":"2011-08-27T04:29:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/moemaka.org\/wp\/?p=365"},"modified":"2011-08-27T04:29:07","modified_gmt":"2011-08-27T04:29:07","slug":"burmese-poetry-by-khin-aung-aye-and-pandora","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/2011\/08\/burmese-poetry-by-khin-aung-aye-and-pandora\/","title":{"rendered":"Burmese Poetry by Khin Aung Aye and Pandora"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Khin Aung Aye<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Achilles\u2019 Heel<\/span><\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I can knock your jaws off.<\/span><\/p>\n

So the story goes\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

In that corner,<\/span><\/p>\n

Delousing or debugging<\/span><\/p>\n

Almost ending up in sex.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A poem I slept with a night too late,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What I\u2019ve been imbibing for four\/five years,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

All have come into being just now.<\/span><\/p>\n

The flowers that dare to sing<\/span><\/p>\n

The restless midnight bells<\/span><\/p>\n

The wild buffalos petrified of dreaming.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Above floating curtains<\/span><\/p>\n

History in the form of a silk lace.<\/span><\/p>\n

These are just portrayals<\/span><\/p>\n

By milestones we have passed\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And ashes in our clenched fists.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As for me,<\/span><\/p>\n

He who\u2019s using talcum powder,<\/span><\/p>\n

He who\u2019s using fragranced soap.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ahead of us,<\/span><\/p>\n

Doors opening ajar, one after another,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0And an obsequious dog who knows exactly his master\u2019s desires.<\/span><\/p>\n

The dark cloud sinning to the end of the samsara.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had to swallow a bit of arak.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

After a lot of \u2018thens\u2019,<\/span><\/p>\n

I was sold by my own street-smartness.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

All I get in return are gilded footsteps<\/span><\/p>\n

Futures fashioned by a stray.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Listen\u2026\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As if just waking up,<\/span><\/p>\n

The mouth that\u2019s about to be nitpicking me,<\/span><\/p>\n

Like picking mushrooms and bamboo shoots,<\/span><\/p>\n

The look about to bury you alive,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Along with them,\u00a0A pair of hypocritical hands.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Between the two of us,<\/span><\/p>\n

There never was a misunderstood kyat.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now you want to murder me?\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What day was it yesterday?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As our child jingles at home,<\/span><\/p>\n

I am still drowning in the mire of lies outdoors.<\/span><\/p>\n

Poisonous liquid,<\/span><\/p>\n

DailyVita,<\/span><\/p>\n

Existentialism\u2026whatever.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In such perfect pitch\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Who are you to resist<\/span><\/p>\n

Before everything is squandered\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

At a snap of my fingers,<\/span><\/p>\n

The social affairs are executed.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

All of a sudden,<\/span><\/p>\n

In this lovelorn evening\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

With suicidal tendencies,<\/span><\/p>\n

I kiss the twilight,<\/span><\/p>\n

I sing a song of agony.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

(Translated by Ko Ko Thett)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Pandora<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

The Sniper<\/span><\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/u><\/p>\n

When you see others on a flag march<\/span><\/p>\n

Repress your swelling bugs<\/span><\/p>\n

No mortar shells, no hand grenade explosion<\/span><\/p>\n

This battle must go on quietly\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

With a calm mind, in cold blood\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

With sharp shooting, trained hands<\/span><\/p>\n

Hone your skills when the sun shines<\/span><\/p>\n

Camouflage like a chameleon<\/span><\/p>\n

Be immovable as a sleeper<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t blink, don\u2019t doze off\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t miss any chance<\/span><\/p>\n

If necessary, play dead<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t flinch, even if they walk all over you<\/span><\/p>\n

Blame your fate if they shoot you point-blank\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To double-check your death\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your life may end up in anticipation in lethe<\/span><\/p>\n

There isn\u2019t much of a choice to make<\/span><\/p>\n

For example\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

Five enemies are approaching<\/span><\/p>\n

Five bullets are all you have.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

(Translated by Ko Ko Thett)<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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sampsoniaway.org <\/span>http:\/\/www.sampsoniaway.org\/literary-voices\/2011\/08\/23\/burmese-poetry-khin-aung-aye-and-pandora\/<\/a><\/div>\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n
<\/p>\n
\"Khin<\/div>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Read more →<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[49],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-365","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poems"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p3RDLm-5T","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/365","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=365"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/365\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=365"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=365"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moemaka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=365"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}