Gối đã mỏi, chân đã mòn.,
Ôi, con đường trở về Vô Lượng Cốc
vẫn còn xa xăm mờ mịt !


I will die in Paris while it rains
On a day which I already remember
I will die in Paris - and I do not run away
Perhaps in the autumn, on a Thursday as it is today.
It will be a Thursday because today
the Thursday that I write theses lines,
my bones feel the turn,
and never so much as today, in all my road
have I seen myself alone

Black Stone on a White Stone - Cesar Vallejo

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