FATHERLY LOVE LE HONG QUANG Remembering early morning when it was freezing cold Father pulls out ATM to pay hospital fees In the maternity room mother gave birth to child, shouting softly: "Son is here, father is in fashion, brother"!
Child's neck wears a pink scarf Attaching a code number to avoid mistakenly identifying child with mother Father "welcoming hands" is good and gentle Hoping for child to be contagious or grow up quickly Our life is not just moments of peace Waves and winds, prosperity are all experiences Happiness and hardship are due to the way we see things Never feel tired and complain!
When you grow up, dedicate yourself to the world In the old days, father and grandfather carried it all Dad taught you the will of men Building our country, Vietnam is prosperous!
WINTER DAY REMEMBERING MOTHER NGUYEN XUAN HAI Mother, winter is coming to an end I follow the tired wings of birds in the sky Listening to the wind waving in the wind Yellow branches and leaves calling for sad seasons Mother is on the rain source side?
In the blink of an eye...or somewhere in the sky?
Mother is in the folk song world?
I sit and remember, remembering every sentence hurts Born from a poor rice paddy roof Child's thin fate thin wings floating Drifting in the corner of the horizon Still leaning against mother's shadow for a lifetime to protect For many long years far from home Mother is still alone in the realm going home to dream Newly by mother's side in those days That Autumn Day has seen tears flowing away Still here is An Tri field And here is mother's figure when the afternoon comes Thin shirt, thin conical hat Mother covers all four worries Transforming into miraculous grains Mother raises children, nurtures life stories...
A very sad day, mother!
Looking up at the tired white clouds drifting
BY YOUR SIDE EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONLY A FEW DAYS NGUYEN THI HONG NGAT Outside, the sky is vast Blue sea and deep forests harmonize with each other High sky overhead People live peacefully - no need for anything more Distant roads smooth carriage sounds There is no noise day and night Life like a dream just flows smoothly In the house, the fire of the stove warms the heart Livelihood everywhere is hard work Hardworking people are not afraid of nothing Wide road just to go Who cares for their own fate, the horizon is also abundant Everywhere is morning and noon The pace of life is leisurely as if it just passed Branches of trees in front of the wind fluttering Living with you in the days of near and far Distance Enjoying a little peace with you Then returning under the scorching sun Excited and excited people's voices Noise carriages are familiar from the past Living with dust around us Inhaling and then exhaling normally Going back to your homeland Being
HIDING DOAN HOANG LAN HUONG Remembering father, poet Thanh Tung (1935 - 2017)
When I was little, I always liked playing hide-and-seek with my father.
Father hide-and-seek, father finds me.
To change my innocent smile.Father suddenly appears.Then when I grow up, I often hide from my father to find my own world.Father finds me again, reminds me, worries.Now, father and I play hide-and-seek together.But this game, I can't find my father anymore.I'm lost in the darkness, calling for father in vain.The darkness covers me, magical and tolerant, loving and affectionate.In faint tears, Father suddenly appears again: Father is here!Father is still by my side and will always be by my side!12.2025
COUNTRYSIDE SHADOW IN AUTUMN THE lush shadow by the bridge and pond The swaying shadow under the peach row swings The cicada calling the noon's sleep The small boat carrying the moonlight The stork welcoming the sunlight The cool bamboo winding with the sunshine The cun cut father in the drying yard The grandmother mumbling by the betel jar Mother diligently digging for oil The moonlit night shadow, painted with one color...
waiting for you The countryside shadow, the shadow of sweetness Our shadow weighs on our shadow...
becoming a couple.
5.1.2026
CRACKED HEEL. LUONG DINH KHOA.
I'm home.
Balloon shoes rolled over my father's legs.
Scratching the rough, dusty heel.
Spring knocks on the door to get acquainted.
It seems...
it's afraid of the dirty soil?
When will the leg turn into stone?
Sweeping mud, sucking in the sun, cracked and rough black.
I bring velvet and brocade to find my father to carry.
I don't care if birds sing happily.
Beehive sandals wear down my back.
Carrying so many lives of tearful sadness?I sit flat on the porch.Looking at the cracked heels, I think flowers have bloomed by mistake.Spring - a silent seed.Stuffing into the cracks, germinating...heartbreaking?I realized, the Dharma is there!More and more cleverly wrapped in thin flesh.Dreaming of worshiping Buddha, searching for clouds.Looking at my father's cracked feet, I see full...of nothingness.Laughing!Spring is like nothing!
