MIN THU WUN
The Pyinma Stump
Gnarled and grotesque like a vulture
An old Pyinma stump
Stands alone on the mound
Assuming an unsightly look.
Its branch point has an old rotten hole
Encrusted with scabs
It is a big old termite nest.
On the river bank
Lies a soldier’s helmet on the cracked ground
A dummy dressed in dry clothes
Pointing to an army camp.
The old stump
Afflicted by battles, termites,
Knife curves, sun burns and storms
Yet unbowed.
Comes along summer
Old leaves drop
New ones sprout profusely in the breeze
Assuming a youthful look
What a courageous man you are!
The Rose
On my way back from the paddy fields,
She wished for star flower buds to wear
With care, I picked those blossoms fair,
Hoping they’d bring her joy unearned.
But later, in the morning light,
Her hair adorned with roses red,
A quiet grace, a beauty bright,
Timeless elegance softly spread.
The Good Soldier
He stands where danger gathers thick,
Yet speaks with gentle, steady breath.
His courage is not loud or quick—
A quiet vow to challenge death.
He bears no hatred in his heart,
Though war has carved its bitter mark.
He fights because he must take part
To guard the light against the dark.
And when the battle fades away,
He longs not for applause or fame—
Only the peace of everyday,
And life restored to what it came.
The Snail
Slowly, slowly the snail moves on,
Carrying its home upon its back.
No hurry in its quiet dawn,
No fear of leaving any track.
The world is wide, the grasses tall,
Yet still it climbs with patient will.
A tiny life, a creature small—
But steadfast, resolute, and still.
Moonlight on the Village Road
Moonlight spills across the road,
Silver dust on fields of rice.
Children’s laughter, soft and low,
Floats like wind through paradise.
A lantern swings from house to house,
Warm as stories elders tell.
Night is quiet, calm, and drowsed—
A world in which all hearts dwell well.
The Ogre from the Past
one night
thoughtful and pensive
I sat on the ground
in my compound
while thinking, while pondering
breaking thru the huge darkness
piercing the darkness
holding a heavy club
with bulging eyes, showing its anger
showing its witch-like fangs
body covered with lots of hairs
the
Preta
*
comes forth to me
threatening to hurt,
injure and kill me
feeling extremely fearful
I became immobile
my eyes became wide
as to what dangers lurk in this:
(then) my mum, my mother
came hither and said
my son you are suffering
due to this preta
which emerged from the darkness
which is none other than
what had happened to you
son, in the past,
in the past of yore
with complicated meanings
the past memories
appeared as the ogre
do not be alarmed
do not fear
this eye-bulging demon:
use this sharp sword of equanimity
and resist the ogre from your own past
my mum gave me this sword of equanimity
using the dah (sword) of equanimity
like a brave man
I raised the dah
and smote the contemptuous,
unrespecting ogre
beating it
to smithereens
only then
the gentle, sweet breeze
emerged:
the resplendent moon
appeared on the horizon
* Preta: hungry ghosts in the lower realms of Buddhism