Going to Carry Supply (1998?) Chiranan Pitpreecha Translated by Manas Chitakasem
Arranging my things, preparing my food To go to carry supply from the East The rain comes, the sky dark and misty The road is twisted and long. Thunder roars, a crashing sound The path is slippery, overgrown, damp and cold Mosquitoes and snails sucking salt blood I must forge my way braving through. In my heart, I hope that on my way back I might receive fresh news Of my separated child, so far away My darling is almost one year old. No matter how hard and miserable Even when my sweat turns blood-red And my bones are sucked by the snails My lips are still set firm, my fists still clenched.

Back to Home Page
Back to Poetry Page