Bright with a poet's soul

(Baonghean) - On a small bed, the poet day after day with one arm diligently writes scribbled but emotional poems about his homeland and village.

The chance for me to meet Mr. Luong Van Thuong was a year ago. At that time, when I read his narrative poems on Facebook, I knew they were not “golden words and jade ideas”. However, I don’t know why, after many conversations with Luong Van Thuong, his poems kept lingering in my mind. The questions about that person aroused my curiosity. And I decided to come and meet him.

Luong Van Thuong lies down writing poetry next to his new computer. Photo: Dao Tho

One cold day, we arrived at Can village (Tam Thai commune - Tuong Duong). The small winding road led to a stilt house deep in a small alley. The locals were familiar with Luong Thuong - "the disabled poet" so they were very clear in showing us the way. Under the stilt house, a small bed was placed right in the middle, which was Thuong's "creative space".

Seeing the guest come in, the old mother hurriedly ran to get him a new set of clothes. He could no longer move one arm, and his legs had shrunk to the size of two bamboo sticks. Around him were scattered books and a computer with some unfinished poems he had just written. It was only with the help of everyone that he was able to get up, lean against the blanket, and talk to us.

In the intimate conversation, Thuong said that he was born as normal as any other child. He still remembers his childhood clearly because it was the most beautiful time of his life. Those were the days when he and his friends in the village went to the forest to catch birds, went down to the stream to fish, and scooped up tadpoles. The third grade student at Luong Van Thuong village school was known as an intelligent student with beautiful handwriting and a talent for literature. However, after only one semester, Thuong suddenly had a fever. Even the leaves of the forest could not bring down that terrible fever. "His night seizures made the whole family worried, but we had to bear it because the clinic was far away and difficult to get to at that time," his mother said, standing by, swallowing her tears.

Since then, his limbs have shrunk more and more and now he can only move one arm. He sadly said that at first he was so scared that he tried to stand up and walk whenever he wasn't tired. But every time he tried, he fell down and finally had to lie down. Missing his friends and school made Thuong infinitely sad. "Lying down all the time is boring, everything depends on my mother. From eating to bathing, if I didn't have my mother, I wouldn't be able to do anything. Sometimes I think life is so unfair, why does it bring disaster upon me?" - Thuong sadly said.

His mother could not go to the fields, and every day she just stayed at home to take care of her disabled child. All of her food and clothing depended on her younger brother Luong Van Thuan and a small allowance from Thuong. Born a few years after him, Luong Van Thuan looked much older than his 32 years. After a period of serving in the army, he returned home to get married and had two beautiful children. He thought life was peaceful, but unexpectedly, disaster struck. Thuan's wife died of a serious illness, leaving him and his elderly mother with two young children and a disabled brother.

Mother prepares meal for Thuong. Photo: Dao Tho

When the meal came, the mother brought out a tray of food and placed it on the table. The spoon was connected to a long piece of bamboo, which Thuong used his other hand to scoop up food. Seeing him struggling to scoop each bite of rice into his mouth, we couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His left arm was a great asset to him because it was thanks to it that he could scoop up food and write poetry. "At first, it was difficult to practice writing with the left hand. I kept writing but couldn't write, but I couldn't stop writing for fear of forgetting the letters. I worked hard to write in every notebook I got, and when I got tired, I had to rest, so now I can do this," Thuong said while showing us the notebook with the scribbled handwriting.

Talking about his interest in poetry, Luong Van Thuong said that when he was still in school, he loved reading poetry. No one taught him so he had to figure it out himself. Until now, he can't remember how many poems he has written, he only knows that his student notebooks are full of short and long poems. He tried to ask someone to send him his work, when he heard that two poems were published in the magazine "My Homeland" of the National Culture Publishing House, Thuong was so happy that he cried. The verses about his homeland and village seemed to penetrate people's hearts. "My hometown is Nghe An in the highlands/ These fields have raised so many generations of people/ Birds sing all year round, I laugh/ The forest of trees and flowers is green all year round/ The market is bustling with buying and selling/ Fruits, vegetables, and tubers compete to grow". Simple and rustic, but that is the soul of a child who puts his heart into his writings.

Poetry follows him forever. He confided that if he didn’t have poetry, he would be sad to death. Writing poetry and posting it on Facebook is also a joy for him, giving him more friends to confide in. Since then, benefactors have known more about him, and they have sent him gifts to help ease his family’s difficulties. “This computer and the new wheelchair are all gifts from benefactors. Now I can freely go online to discuss poetry with everyone. I am currently learning how to make clips to post on YouTube, hoping to attract more views,” he excitedly shared.

We parted ways when the drizzle began to fall. Luong Van Thuong returned to his computer, engrossed in his poems and hopes. The village was brightly lit.

Dao Tho