Owing and Owning

A friend sent me a Vietnamese song. Anh còn nợ em. You still owe me... I am waiting for her to collect the debt.

Owing is owning. If you don't owe, you don't own. When you own a house, you owe it more than simply your money. You owe it the expectation of "returning home." You owe it a commitment.

You are mine, my dear. That means I owe you a debt. Another commitment. I cannot have your relationship for free. I cannot be free having the relationship. I owe you. You owe me. From here to eternity.

Can we stop owing? I don't have the answer. Jesus owes humanity its sins. Buddha its sufferings. The dead owes the living grief and memories (and sometimes blames). Owing is as certain as tax and death.

But why are we afraid of owing? Sometimes you poke your own wound to increase the pain so that you can forget about your present (milder) pain. And you appreciate that increased suffering. The same with owing. Let's borrow more, and owe more. That's the only way to stop worrying about owing.

Làm sao tôi trả được nợ em

Giấc mộng tình yêu vẫn mãi tìm

Thịt da, hơi thở, nơi nương tựa

Trả suốt một đời vẫn thiếu em.

Làm sao tôi trả được nợ tôi

Mỏi chân tìm nẻo ý cuối trời

Giết bao mộng ước, bao mơ tưởng

Giết cả mình đi nợ chẳng vơi

Làm sao tôi trả được nợ đời

Thả mặc tôi rong một cõi chơi

Cờ đang dở cuộc bày bàn khác

Kiếp này để nợ đến kiếp mai.

Làm sao tôi trả nợ Nàng Thơ

Em kéo tôi ra khỏi vũng nhơ

Trăng sao, nắng gió, em phù thủy

Nợ hồi sinh, tôi trả mấy cho vừa?

How can I repay my debt to you

While still searching for that dream of love

Your flesh, your breath, your support,

I will still owe you beyond the end of my life.

How can I repay the debt to myself

While still searching for a purpose at the end of the heavens

I have killed so many dreams, so many hopes

I have even killed myself, but still could not get rid of my debts.

How can I repay the debt of life

Which lets me free playing my games

I keep starting new games before finishing the old ones

Assigning this life's debts to my next life.

How can I repay the debt to my Muse

You who pulled me out from the dirty pond

You are the sorceress of the moon, the stars, the sun, and the wind

You have resuscitated me: how can I repay that debt?

Desperately yours,

Drunken Poet