(ISSN: 1527-5467)
the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation.























Leave your door open tonight, ‘cause I will creep in

I’ll talk to your heartbeat

Tales of the affair between Paris and L’Indochine


I’ll breathe onto your  heart memories of girlhood

and paint  onto your mind  images of what I once saw

of my beloved Paris


so when you roam the city of love, city of lights, city of revolution,

nurturer of the misfit, the rejected, the vagabonde

You will see what I saw and embrace my soul

to find unison

in my beloved Paris


and when the morning sun paints shadow upon your face,

Le depart, by sir who goes to Paris

Je t’ai apporte des bonbons, du chocolat, du croissant, et du fromage

Tout le monde fait ca ici

in my beloved Paris


I once tiptoed along the bank of La Seine, seeing lovers’ embrace

wishing I could grow up so fast to make love to you

I once rolled upon the wet leaves of Le Jardin de Luxembourg,

longing for womanhood when these leaves would turn into your caress

I once peeped inside the boutiques de Champs Elysees

imagining me in ligerie, high heels, and a Dior hat, devenir ton amante


That time never came, and somehow the affair of Paris and L’Indochine

turned into gunshots, guillotines, airlift and evacuation

Somewhere between Paris and L’Indochine, I lie

stoic and silent

awaiting  you, still


Grandmere, from the soil of Southeast Asia I can still hear you cry

Maman, agee et gentille, still talking of  everlasting love

Et toi, ma tante, tata, you and the glory of your Vietnamese opera stage

Wake up, the women of the East, from tomb, bed, stage, and dream

and tell me, how many years has it been since I left your womb?

If I am to hear the footsteps of love, why does it come so late?


Quand, qui, and comment de dire

ce grand amour qui me dechire


So, sir who goes to Paris,  tear the sky of Paris for me,

rage over the horizon of L’Isle de France

and rush, rush to me

grab, feel, and taste

and leave nothing unsaid

Rush, rush against time

horseman, boxer, L’avocat, conseil, man of the world

run up the steps of Sacre Coeur

bow to divinity, and love me full as though tomorrow would soon be Apocalypse

down to Monmartre, capture my colors in the artist’s eyes

and find, too, the house of Dalida, upon her breath I sing

Besame, besame mucho

trace for me the steps of Josephine Baker, upon her feet I dance

Samba samba samba comme le mambo mambo la

Reach for Notre Dame’s Rose Window and picture Esmeralda through Quasimodo’s longing

Stroll through L’arc de Triomphe, triumph, please, triumph over me

in the golden sunshine of Paris (sparkling like les cheuveux blonds of the Sorbonne girls), you reign over me

like love itself

back to Quartier Latin, follow the church bells of St. Germains des Pres,

gather for me, sir, pieces of my girlhood


catch Buddha’s statue in the house of the Vietnamese ladies of Pigalle

on the cleavage of Moulin Rouge dancers

glance inside Sartre’s cafe, Deux Margots, where life and hell are both here, Huit Clos No Exit

and move on, my love, reviens, reviens, and blind yourself unto me once more, in me love’s no exit


But when the moon hangs over La Tour Eiffel

When all lights die out on Le Theatre de Moliere

Out on L’avenue de L’Opera, the affair between Paris and L’Indochine has ended

you return to L’Hotel Parisien, alone, sir who has gone to Paris

Look, look, my love

somewhere in a dark alley, at the end of a long and narrow corridor,

I may be lying, hopeless and breathless,

Lips apart, limbs abandoned

lusting love, loving lust

awaiting you, still

Viens, viens, mon amour, vite et tout de suite

Come to me, with cuffs, feather, bonds and bondage

to complete my being

and rewrite for me

girlhood from its beginning      





 · THE WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467),
the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation.




Editorial note: All works published in this issue are simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge magazine double issue 3 &4 Winter 2003 & Spring 2004. (ISSN: 1540-1723).

Copyright © Uyen Nicole Duong 1999, 2004. Nothing in this issue may be downloaded, distributed, or reproduced without the permission of the author/ translator/ artist/  The Writers Post/ and Wordbridge magazine. Creating links to place The Writers Post or any of its pages within other framesets or in other documents is copyright violation, and is not permitted.



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