Sometimes
on this green hill
I walk around all day
in my cotton shirt and shiny black pants
the rubber tire sandals
that I bought in the Foreigners’ Store

The tailor was tired of pleasing Russians
He looked Tuan in the eye and said    an American?
what is the Fatherland Front thinking of now?
there is no cotton    there is very little cotton

He measured carefully    Linda and I were ashamed
to be American and fat    the Russian woman laughed at us
she watched   the tailor said    choose your material    there
are the bolts of cloth    he was disgusted
He said   take anything    what is it worth    this
is the Foreigners’ Store    Tuan told us later
he suffers    he is an intelligent man

She answered    my dear    that is beautiful   and that too
is good     but that!    only the Vietnamese
would wear    she was nicely dressed
a diplomat’s wife    she will travel    she
will buy lovely saris in Delhi    and in North Africa
a djellaba of fine wool    a proud and visiting life
is before her    she will be with her husband an empire’s
interested emissary to the quiet edge
of the terrible wars