Sabaydii,

 

Here is the continuation of a series ‘Coming home’ entitled ‘Summer grass’

 

Hakphaang,

 

 

Looking at the grass

Springing up by the roadside

I thought of Basho’s haiku[1]

 

Summer grass

All that is left

Of warriors’ dreams

 

I just don’t know

How many lives were cut short?

And for what?

 

For the piece of land

Where the grass now grows

 

It was painful to see

Two brothers

One on the side of the old government

And another on the side of the Pathet Lao[2]

Trying to get the pieces of themselves

 

Now that the war was over

The older brother in the U.S.

While they younger one in Laos

With his thatched house

A lower rung of the ladder

Still poor as before

 

Just want to ask

Why did we fight?

Isn’t Muang Lao too big

For all of us?

 

Or are we but a pawn

To be pushed around?

 

What is a warrior then

If there is still one left?

Not the type that grasps the land

And let it be worse than before

But one with enough sense

To fight against his own greed

To know he has done his job

And then moved on

 

Let others more in tune with time

Take care of the land

You profess to love

And then the summer glass

Will mean something

 

Summer grass

Warriors come warriors go

All is left but you and me

 

 

9.23.03