Water Buffalo Cobra and the Prisoner of War - U Sam Oeur

Work, work—hacking at trees, uprooting them, clearing bushes,

transplanting rice, no time to rest.

At noon, alone, as I cleared the canebrake,

a beautiful black cobra

opened his hood before me, displaying his power.

He thought I was his foe.

"He's beautiful, just like in the Indian movies!"

I exclaimed to myself while my knees knocked.

"O cobra! Your flesh and blood are truly

Buddha's flesh and blood.

I am just a prisoner of war,

but I am not your food.

You, cobra, are free,

and if my flesh is truly your blood,

plead my case with the spirits of this swamp

to lead me to Buddham, Dhammam, and Sangham."

The cobra stared at me with loving kindness

then lowered his head.

He slithered into the swamp to the south,

and I went back to my work of surviving.

for Gregory Ann Smith

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U Sam Oeur (Born 1936) Cambodia

Translated by Ken McCullough

Source: Project Muse (Four Poems, U Sam Oeur, Ken McCullough, Manoa, Volume 16, Number 1, 2004, pp. 195-199, University of Hawai'i Press)