Sabaydii,

Here is the continuation of a series 'Coming home' entitled 'The national library'

Hakphaang,

Passing by SamSenthai road

Around NamPhu area

Seeing the lackluster sign saying

The national library

I went in

The main room

Where the racks of newspapers

And shelves of magazines displayed

Were but the size of a typical classroom

With some readers

Hanging around

Suddenly

I felt crowded

Roughly

It took me less than a quarter of an hour

To browse through

All the reading stuffs

Sad to say

The quality of the writing wasn't that good

A far cry from the old days

Where the good writing jumped at you

At the very first sight

As Ai Outhin

The outstanding writer left from the old regime

Confided in me while in Tokyo

Lao literature was a step backward

Put it in another way

You just couldn't order a good piece of writing

The way you order food

And still expect it to be a quality literature

Seeing what he meant

For I was once ordered to write

The most I could do

Was an unimaginative piece

Stale with 'facts'

I myself couldn't even digest

Almost two decades later

When things began to change

Even inside Laos

The writing though with some leeway

Still wasn't that much better

For some dark clouds still loom

No much less than before

With my mind set on

Checking out some old books

Lao literature was known of

I went to another room

Much smaller

And much less frequented

To my dismay

Only a few books written in Lao

Greeted my hungry eyes

The rest in other languages

Sparse as the room itself

Couldn't help to wonder

What happened to all the printed books

Wasn't the library supposed to collect them all?

Or was there a divided line somewhere?

As someone says

Books add wings to our imagination

Without them you not only take away

The soul of the citizens but of a nation as well

With a dejected feeling

I left the library

Finding nothing

Worth reading

If this is the state of Laos

For years to come

I couldn't help but

Feeling sorry for my own people

Drowning in darkness

Not knowing even the best

Of what our ancestors had bestowed on them

Oh Muang Lao

Where are you going to wake up?

Or won't this be

For another 25 years?

9.19.03

Sabaydii,

Here is the continuation of a series 'Coming home' entitled 'Wandering I am'

Hakphaang,

Wandering around the world

With no place to call home

Why is it so hard

To be a Lao?

A country not that small

But not an inch for me

Am I that bad

The motherland won't take me back?

What did I do wrong?

Being on another side of the fence

Having a parent from the old regime?

They say

Muang Lao is better off

Without people like me

Let the like of me

Rot in other land

For they alone know

What's the best for Muang Lao

Let me ask

The little of Lao history I know

Is it the way

Our ancestors did?

Getting rid of their own people?

Or our ancestors were just

A bunch of idiots

Not knowing how to enrich themselves?

Oh Lao of the new

How you came to mislead yourself

You are the one

The savior of this land

Is beyond me

Or an alien ideology you profess

Is enough in itself?

Wandering I did

All LaoNork around the world

When will it be the time to rest our tired bodies?

I don't know

9.22.03

9.22.03

Sabaydii,

Here is the continuation of a series 'Coming home' entitled 'My youth hero - Che Guevara'

Hakphaang,

Samsenthai road

Seems to be the locus of my memories

Any time I pass it by

Images of the past rushing in

Like a dam with an open floodgate

In the monsoon day

In front of Namphu

Next to the national library

Stood a building

Once housed a display

Of Che Guevara posters

Being a rebel youth in heart

I love the man

For what he stood for

For what he fought against

Couldn't help to wonder

If only our revolution was only

Half of what he espoused

Justice would be at our heart

Not power for the power sake

And luxury wouldn't be in our vocabulary

As they say

Some just pretend to be

What they are not

Only through the test of time

With death at the end of the line

Do we know

What really us

What is just a decoration

Oh this world

What a web of lies

Of deception

What you see is not

What you get

A revolutionary yesterday

Today but a tyrant

Not sure

This is the way

To wind people's hearts

To build a country

Don't know about others

For me

The spirit of Che Guevara

Still runs deep

In my heart

In my soul

With my head turned

To the direction of the building

Once the spirit of Che Guevara reigned

I bowed to the place

Many young lives affected

Knowing full well

Somewhere in our hearts

There's still a place

For a man like our youth hero

A man of justice yearning

A man of commitment this life worth living

And a man of sacrifice

For the things we deeply care

Che Guevara

10.10.03