Mother and Fruit
The seasons my mother picked
I still look to my mother’s hands to cultivate
The seasons when the fruit goes down and then grows again
Like the sun, sometimes like the moon.
We grew up from our mother’s hands
As for the squash and gourds, they grow
They look like salty sweat drops
Into the silence of my mother.
And we, a fruit in the world
Seventy years old mother waiting to be picked
I’m scared when my mother’s hands are tired
I still have a young green fruit?
Author: Nguyen Khoa Diem
Miss my hometown Hue
Mountains and rivers extend to mountains and rivers
Does the stork fly straight to the field?
Some people say Hue is far, far away
But my hometown Hue is in the heart.
Eleven years of bringing Hue with me
High pass, the sun turns off the shadow
The voice of the roof pushes the clouds and mountains
The cool man of the Perfume River surfs the top of the pass
I met many people from far away from Hue
Late night lights stay up forever
Open the way to liberation back to the motherland
Building all over the mountains and rivers, the shadow of the neighborhood
How many Hue people don’t come back?
Sending stones along the forest to copy victories
There are martyrs’ graves lifting the ground.
Sailing to break Tam Giang, the wind blows the cage.
Loaded with hundreds of years of ancient shadow
How many times has red blood dyed green copper?
Why is that day sad and forbidden?
The river is stirring and the mountains are turning
How much is collected, collected through
Hue I deeply miss you far away
Every time the phoenix blooms, it vibrates red
The more you urge the soup, the more the chicken sounds.
Author: Peaceful
Sing yourself
No wonder I wish it was gold
My heart, you used to know
You are a person who despises wealth
So if you need it, sell it right away.
I also don’t expect it to be like the sun
Because it will turn off when the evening shadows fall
I’m alone again with the long silent night
But my heart is far from your heart.
I’m back in the true sense of the heart
Know how to revive dead red blood cells,
Knowing how to get back what was lost,
Know how to close the distance of love and trust.
I’m back to my true heart
Know what you want
Know how to be touched through many perceptions
Know I love you and know I love you.
Why is there a lot of rain this autumn
The windows of the ship do not close
The moorland and the dark great thousand
I am lost in the depths of your forest.
I’m worried about my way
Heart pounding can not speak
Heart pounding with hunger
What flame glimmers in the loneliness.
I’m back to my true heart
As flesh and blood, who does not have in everyday life?
Also stop beating when life is no more
But I know I love you even when you’re gone.
Author: Xuan Quynh
Sang Thu
Suddenly I realized the scent of guava
Throw in the wind
The fog drifts through the alley
Thu seemed to have about
The river is at ease
Birds start to rush
There are summer clouds
Squeeze your half to fall
How much sun is still left?
The rain has subsided
Thunder is also less surprising
On older trees.
Author: Huu Thinh
When I’m sober
When you call the flock
The rice is ripening and the fruit is sweeter
The garden is shady with the sound of cicadas
Yellow corn kernels full of peach sun
The wider the blue sky, the higher it is
A pair of flute kites acrobatic…
I hear summer waking up in my heart
But the legs want to break the room, summer.
How stupid, just dying
The howling bird outside keeps calling!
Author: To Huu
Central
When will you come visit?
My hometown was once on fire
The Central region is thin and sharp as bamboo
Brush your guts into Song Lam silk
Central
The bare back is dark
The jagged Truong Son vertebrae spread the curtain
Escape the shadow of the mountain enemy blasphemy
Children are thrown like shrapnel
Loving my mother alone was born orphaned
Central
How many generations of mountains and pools
Oh! East Sea – tears of thousands of generations
Hot as if just rolled down
According to the headless stone statues of the majestic Truong Son
Central
Lying on the side
In the sun and in the sand
Even the song is ready twice
Why is it still bothering me all year round
Central
When will you come visit?
The land is so poor that I can’t fall
The girl’s rice is thin and red
Only the stormy wind is as lush as the grass
No one delivered but white face
Central
This isthmus is tied to the bottom of a bee’s waist
For human love
I try to come back
Do not let the old mother expect.
Author: Hoang Tran Cuong
Calligraphy master
Each year the flowers peach blossom
That his old toys
Paper presented red ink
Inside a crowded street over
How many tenants wrote
User praise switch plates
Hand drawn flowers with strokes
As phoenix dragon dance
But every year, every absence
Where the tenant write this
Red paper petal sad
Research toner left in grief
He sat there map
Passers nobody or
Leaves fall on the paper
It’s raining and dusty outside
Peach bloom again this year
Not seeing his old toys
Long live old people
Where soul now?
Author: Vu Dinh Lien
Bumpy
Who comes to visit our motherland?
This afternoon, there is a distant child who secretly misses…
Bruise, is it cold and not bruised!
Pigs and pigs in the mountains, in deep drizzle
Bruised in the transplanted field, shivered
Feet wading in the mud, hands transplanting young seedlings
Young seedlings bruised a few pieces
Bruised intestines hurt me several times.
Drizzle wet clothes
How many raindrops, how much bruised!
Dammit, early in the afternoon
I love you, don’t worry too much, listen!
I go to hundreds of mountains and thousands of slots
Not as much as the pain of numbing heart
I went to war for ten years
Not equal to the hard work of a sixty year old life.
I went to the front lines far away
Loving and patriotic, both gentle mothers.
Remember to love your baby rest assured
My bruises, Mother of the National Guard.
I go far as well as near
Brothers and sisters gathered around are children.
I love you, love you always comrade
Dear children, dear brothers.
Dammit, the intestines are soft
Having children and mothers, more compatriots
I take every arduous step
Far bruised but how many bruises!
How kind-hearted grandmothers like mothers
Love you like a baby.
Give me a shirt and a gift
Give my firewood to heat, let my house rest.
You go, you’ve grown up
Just love bruises at home and miss you!
Miss you, don’t be sad
The battle is over, I’m bruised again early in the day.
Gray-haired old mother
This afternoon, I’m sure to hear your voice…
Author: To Huu
Rice visit
The sun is shining brighter
Ripe rice is more golden
The dew hangs on the head of the wind
The dew shines even brighter.
Soaring to the blue sky
The tall larch sings together
The sound of birds sounds holy
Echoing across the field
Stand up against me
I feel excited
Because I remember
An early morning
He volunteered to leave
The tall larch sings together
The rice is also dark
I send you on the road
The rattan bag you carry
I am underarms with sticky rice
Rice holds you off your shoes
He quickly bowed
Crossing the field cut off
Come to the shore, he said
“My field forgot to plow
So the rice ripens unevenly
Remember to save for next season
The house tries to make it good”
In the distance hear the song
I feel a rush in my heart
Coming to a crowded place
He told me to look back
Orange three times to the left
Grapefruit flowers three times
He walked out
From the first day of defense
Step through the resistance period
Did you send a message about
Holding the letter you love
My stomach flutters
I’m on a winning season
My rice is also ripe
Good rice bro
Competition I snatched
Spread your hand and press it
Counting for four years
Everyone says don’t expect
Personally, I still remember
The first banana in the garden has been holed
The cam at the entrance is already yellow
I miss the field, I miss the garden
Can’t remember you
Next season next season
I carry a hoe to visit the field
Heavy grain sorghum rice
Feeling happy inside
I look forward to the day of victory.
Author: Tran Huu Thung
This is Vi Da village
Why don’t you come and play in Vi village?
New row sun sunny scowling look up.
Whose garden is so green as jade
Horizontal bamboo leaf cover complete typeface.
The wind follows the wind, the clouds follow the clouds,
The water is sad, the cornflowers are swaying…
Whose boat docked at the Moon River,
Keep carrying moon tonight?
Mo Guest distance, long distance guests
My shirt is too white to see…
The fog is foggy here
Anyone who knows the bold?
Author: Han Mac Tu
