A temporary post. This is a translation of an excerpt from one of my favorite Vietnamese authors.
Translation:
“I want to confess something: I think a lot about death, not the how and when will I die — those are beyond my control, I think about what comes after when my eyes had closed, and my heart had stopped beating for the last time: what would I pass down to this world besides a body now has turned to dust?
Continue reading “Death”