SEASON OF PEACE (author: LUONG DINH KHOA)
The breath of Spring flows into me, Full, sparkling... Sparkling with sounds and colors Breathing the breath of the season with choruses... I am at peace!
Hope is kindled In me is a flood of light The light of faith that is not vague or illusory Filled in the subconscious jar So that in the land of pain there is never despair Never stopping hope Peace is on every path I pass!
Condensing dream files I refine The dream is also filled with the scent of Spring, clear and pure The dream passes through my age of 3 times 8 in the image of a bachelor going back and forth looking for work Worrying, tired...
The new season finds a peaceful refuge!
I breathe the fragrance, peace within myself Each season returns without noise In quiet love Singing, premonition, dreaming, and hoping...
Listening to the heart of puberty, pure Spring! 1.2025
HANOI IN THE FOG (author: Dr. PHAM HONG DIEP)
Do you miss me? The day when fog covers the road A silent Hanoi flows Desolate to the point of numbness The coldness of the streets The last day of the year is heavy with fog...
Do you miss me? The dew is so cold, wet and desolate My hands are cold too, my hair is wet with dew The sky is hazy and white with longing So far away, so dense and dense
But still knowing that behind the cold mist, a lover still aches and longs for me. Sent into the wind and mist, full of longing. At the end of the road, I'm waiting for you alone.
Behind the window, the mist drifts, the sun returns, stirring up so many emotions...
I miss you already, Warm your lips with your arms. Hanoi, December 2024
RAIN PAINTING (author: DOAN VAN MAT)
The rain trembles on the silk, blurring into the eyes of the woman of yesteryear, who was sewing for herself.
And the thin needle lines Draw a shape Tonight the lamp is brighter than the moon
And the mother carrying her child Quietly walked out of the painting As if out of her life's dream
The rain still trembles Drawing curves on silk No one sees in the needle and thread A distant shadow from ancient times. 7.2024
THE LAND THAT CALLS (author: LAM TRUC)
I come to your hometown at the end of the Fatherland, the long road along the dream of mangrove forests, poetic beaches, rich shores, what secret is hidden in the cheerful bridges across the river? the curved cape at the end of the road completes the S-shaped map
Dreams run from the heart The land hides, the water seeks to create a lagoon The wind has no legs, why does it run so hurriedly? Strong, salty, and head-on, it crosses the ocean The sea at the end of the sky - Oh my sea! The sharp bow stretches to keep the shape of the country
The vast green mangrove forests of the land are filled with thousands of hands reaching out to the ground, the ripples of human love are so pure and simple, the sky protects the land of Nam Can, Song Doc, Cai Nuoc, Phu Tan...
I silently enter the wave of doubt...
Afternoon in Ca Mau, the sea is rough. 12.2024
SPRING STREET (author: HANH QUYNH)
The streets are cold this season. Winter lights a fire to save. Tomorrow, early spring shines, nurturing the sparkling sky.
I wander down the street, Spring sky filled with lights and flowers. Delayed love affairs, Waiting for this Spring to sow the seeds of love.
Late love affairs Welcoming the spring sunshine through the threshold Praying in the new year We become one...!! Fingers intertwined Warmth in the spring Silently praying for victory Peace for everyone
The flower street is in full bloom, bustling on the last day of the year, welcoming spring into the door, opening up green buds.
Welcome Spring into the alley...
JANUARY (author: TRAN SANG)
January awakens with a thin mist of flowers and grass whispering old stories that have not yet faded. The small path is filled with the scent of the new season. Someone's footsteps softly echo among the trees. January is like a love message left unspoken, sweetly permeating the rising morning light.
January comes, the sky is blue, the song is sung, the sun is golden on the peaceful thatched roof, the wind whispers, the green fields give the breath of the season of love, softly calling out for sincerity.
January is as gentle as a mother's lullaby, leading time back to our innocent age. We stand there in the middle of a vibrant spring, listening to the dream that lights up our waiting hearts.
January is quiet, the scent of incense spreads throughout the alleys, the sound of temple bells ringing in peaceful dreams, small kites flying high in the sky, wishes calling us back to the gentle old days.
In someone's eyes, Spring is like the dust of time forever, unable to touch the smile of January, making people's hearts feel fresh again in the vastness, happiness suddenly full and empty.
The sky is still as blue as before, welcoming my soul to wander in the vastness of January, keeping my heart pure so that the new seasons will last forever...
