"Here is a writer who has seen the worst and written the best. His intensity comes from a gentle tone, and his spare beauty brings us insight sweetened by introspection.... All that is ugly is redeemed by his descriptive writing, poetic restraint, and ennobling experience."
Washington Independent Review of Books
"Reading Ngo Tu Lap's poems, terrible nostalgia wells up in menostalgia for a lost time and a far-gone country, nostalgia for people I've loved, and for creatures of forests and rivers. The French called PTSD 'nostalgie.' I feel gratitude too. War is over. Peace arrives with these beautiful poems."
Maxine Hong Kingston
"Underlying tensions animate these arresting poems by Ngo Tu Lap, movingly translated by Martha Collins and the author. Coinhabiting past and present, the speaker conflates absence and presence so that ‘On the finger of a woman who died young / A ring still sparkles / In the depths of the black earth.’ Inside this dual perspective, we, as readers, are enriched."