Road to the Sea

Bui Gia Khanh Pham

the road to the sea, for those

so full of worries it feels —

empty,

wrapped in pricks, now nothing

stings,

so imbued with aches, how to name these

Pains?

at the sea

salted air

melts

into salted

droplets

cry for them,

for their tear-drought eyes

carry them,

carry their breathless sighs

feel with them,

feel the passage of time,w

hear them too,

the hoarse whispers quivering,

on the pale lips that wear out from staggering

on the edges: no wonder it feels so foreign,

so dear and near yet so estranged,

so burnt with shouts that they quench

themselves in their own doubts.

Now you know why they come to the sea.

there’s no answer in return, but at least

it is better than the noise filled

with the inaudible voice of their own.

road to the sea,

wilted weeds locked in concrete,

trampled jasmines fading white

strangled in the tangle of vines.

road to the sea,

footwear at the cliff,

there it will stay,

freckled brown with age.

the road to the sea, for those

so full of worries it feels —

empty,

wrapped in pricks, now nothing

stings,

so imbued with aches, how to name these

Pains?

at the sea

salted air

melts

into salted

droplets

cry for them,

for their tear-drought eyes

carry them,

carry their breathless sighs

feel with them,

feel the passage of time,w

hear them too,

the hoarse whispers quivering,

on the pale lips that wear out from staggering

on the edges: no wonder it feels so foreign,

so dear and near yet so estranged,

so burnt with shouts that they quench

themselves in their own doubts.

Now you know why they come to the sea.

there’s no answer in return, but at least

it is better than the noise filled

with the inaudible voice of their own.

road to the sea,

wilted weeds locked in concrete,

trampled jasmines fading white

strangled in the tangle of vines.

road to the sea,

footwear at the cliff,

there it will stay,

freckled brown with age.

Author's note

"On a spontaneous decision to visit the Fukuoka Art Museum, I was able to witness more than 30 artworks from Tanaka Chisata 1st White Wall Project: Horizon and Road. I could vividly recall my impression of it: I loved the signature pitch dark background, but I was even more stirred by the messages lying under the titles of the artwork.

I was truly captivated by "Road to the Sea"; it was actually a piece in a collection of 6 artworks. I recalled how I stood there for a long time, because the moment I saw them, I started to craft stories for the roads in my mind, each holding onto its own wounds. They are paintings that speak."