Dagon Tara - The Twilight of New Literature

The leaden water is covered with scales due to the waves. The ships, sampans, canoes, boats, jetties, warehouses, barracks and other objects moored on the shore also appear leaden. The sound of the cranes from the ocean-going ships anchored in the middle of the Yangon River is the melody of twilight. Every object is half light and half dark, the color of twilight.

In the darkness, a soft pinkish-red stream flows down from the Hlaing River. The lead-colored water is covered with rubies, sapphires, and gemstones, sparkling and sparkling.

The air was clean and free from the city's odors of gasoline, glue, cigarettes, and alcohol. The sea air was fresh. Seagulls were flying across the river.

As darkness falls, the brown color deepens.

A whisper emerged from the twilight. Ko Mya Than (now Mya Than Tint) was speaking to me, sitting on a rope bridge at the edge of the pier, where no boats were moored and no one was around.

“Why does the editorial team of Sapar Thit have to leave? Don’t leave.”

I didn't look at him, just stared at the river. But his figure appeared like a statue in the twilight. One side of his body was leaden, the other pink. His thick glasses were red. The color reflected from the rushing water of the Hlaing River.

At that time, Ko Mya Than was 20 years old, I was 30 years old, he was still studying at the Uttara School (now Shwebo Hall) next to Japson College.

Amidst the rumbling of the crane from the river crossing, the motorboat of the customs department steering through the darkness, the sound of the ship's siren, the sound of the waves, and the sound of the water, Ko Mya Than's whisper, "Why do we have to leave? Don't leave, let's do it together," came out.

"The editorial team has decided to leave."

"Decisions can be changed.. Oh, don't leave."

I laughed at him.

"What's wrong? You don't know me yet. Once I make up my mind, there's no turning back."

"Oh my.. what's wrong? I have to fix it. Don't leave."

The darkness was getting thicker and thicker. I had already decided to leave the editorial team of Sapay Thit that morning and told everyone. In the evening, Ko Mya Than came out of the school building to where I was sitting. The two of us went out to the pier to have a quiet talk.

The whispers still echo. The wind still blows freely. The twilight still darkens.

( 2 )

While bringing articles, essays, and poems to the editorial team of Tara Magazine, I got to know them and became close friends. Maung Kyi, Mya Than, Kyaw Aung, and sometimes Aung Lin and Than Tin would come with them.

I knew him from the first letter. I am the editor from Pakokku.” They wrote and sent him letters. Around 1948, their letters began to appear in Tara Magazine. In 1949-50, they wrote to him continuously. They sent letters and then came in person. At that time, Tara Magazine’s editorial office was on 14th Street.

We would sit around the editor's table and talk about literature, art, and politics, and then we would go to the top of the Golden Mountain and continue at the tea shop. When the printing house turned to Kaitan, the conversation would turn into a conversation at the Chinese tea shop at the top of the road. Sometimes we would go to the movies together. Sometimes we would sit around the piano. They were in school, but they would often come to me, not just on school holidays.

Ko Kyil and Ko Mya Than wear glasses. Ko Kyil's glasses are not as thick as Ko Mya Than's. They are both the same age.