THE WORKER'S SONG
(author: BÀNH PHƯƠNG LAN)
"... Build a house high high high forever
Oh, beautiful homeland of ours..."*
According to the song, I search for a worker
Build a sturdy and tall building
The bridges spanning rivers, seas
And countless roads connecting distant lands
I seek the source of joy
The female painter with white and yellow walls
The walls painted red, for the happy couple
With the young and fresh workers, with sunburned skin
Laughing with joy after completing the task
After finishing this project, will you return to your hometown?
Visit your village and your beloved?
Busy building projects everywhere
Do you have time to tile the roof for your mother?
Say sweet words to your hardworking wife?
Buy a new backpack for your child to go to school...?
Working hard all year round, with danger lurking
You, the workers, building our country
Countless projects still waiting ahead
Factories, apartments, hospitals
Parks and schools for the children
Many more dream projects...
And countless poems about the workers
This song is dedicated to you, the workers.
7.2024
* Lyrics from the song "The Stars of the Night" - Phan Huỳnh Điểu.
FOLLOW ME
(author: VI THÙY LINH)
(Dedicated to the famous singer Opéra Đào Tố Loan)
In the same city, have we ever met?
Only communicating through our songs
The designer of the bridges connecting space and distance
Why haven't we overcome the eight-note melody?
On the morning of August 7, I will fly
To the East Asia, with a longing heart
The sunrise in Hanoi, my hometown
Not the place I'm heading to
I don't want to get lost in the familiar airport
But because the runway is waiting for me
Music is the essence of youth, a beautiful dream
The sound of Tố Loan's voice, a symphony of senses
The theater opens its curtains for me to fly
I've been flying with your voice, my friend!
I don't know how many more bridges I'll create and cross
But I'm sure the artistic bridge will last forever, creating magic
Like the universe today, listening to you sing, so deep...
6.8.2024
TO THE MINISTRY OF LABOR
(author: TS. NGUYỄN TIẾN MINH)
Throughout the year, busy with work
Taking care of children, wife or husband
Policies, mobilization, trade unions, associations
Difficult decisions, but still achieving success!
The end-of-summer break, the delegation was moved
Is it tiring, with transportation, food, and accommodation?
Cửa Lò Beach is finally here
Returning home, recharging - back to work!
8.2024
THOUGHTS OF CUC PHUONG
(author: PHẠM QUỐC VINH)
I return to Mother Nature
The green forest
The gentle, kind morning dew
Thousands of years of scorching sun and rain
The Chò tree, a guide for people in the past, stretching far and wide
The Hoa Mơ flowers are waiting for someone
The misty dawn, blooming in white
The Bưởi giang, faithful to the two rivers
The sound of the Con Moong calling its flock
The full moon on the 15th night, with a crescent shape in the clouds
The gentle, delicate shape, like a sigh of longing
Chèo khua, sailing on the Yên Quang river
The ancient Phò Mã, quietly, gently, in the Tiên Cung
The stones are worn smooth, like silk
The Voọc, a delicate, intricate, and mysterious time
A sea of colorful butterflies, overflowing
A beautiful painting of the sky and earth, given to this place
In the future, I'll remember the hand that
Painted the village of Mạc, Bống - the corner of the eye, a promise of love
I'll cherish the vow, deep in my heart... Cúc Phương!
8.2024
RETURNING HOME TO MEET THE HERON
(author: NGUYỄN NGỌC TUNG)
Returning home, my eyes are filled with the fields
Leaving the heat behind, in the city
Meeting the fresh footprints in the mud, on the grass
Drinking in the fragrance of the rice fields, in the season
The heron, with its long neck, singing in the folk song
The mother, tilling the land, crying tears into the rain
The father, working hard, sweating, and toiling
The sun and rain, a life of hardship...
The life of my mother and father, struggling to plant and harvest
The wind and mist, following me into sleep
Meeting the heron, making me tear up
The white clouds, returning, and flying away
The rice fields are harvested, relying on the sắn and ngô trees
Eating cháo rau, a staple food, for a month, from the 3rd to the 8th
The bánh khúc, fragrant with sắn
The mother, returning, and scolding me for getting wet in the rain
The horizon, getting farther and farther away
My parents' life, not going beyond the fields
The shovel and plow, are my friends
The hundred-year-old post, holding the family's home
The smoke of the evening, leading me back home
Paying respects to my parents, with incense
The unformed vôi, not yet turned into stone
The cay cha, with smoke, lingering around the house
Returning home, meeting the heron again
The woven tre, creaking, and stuck, like my childhood...
8.2024
THE FURNACE
(author: TRẦN KHIÊN)
The glistening mirror, reflecting the stars
My pickaxe and shovel, leading me into the deep pit
Passing through the "họng sáo" (1)
The furnace head
The light from the furnace, shining brightly, like a market
When we "áp má" (2), piling up the coal
When we "luồn ruột" (3), with a light, I shine it in
Inside, lacking the wind from outside
Comforted by the smile of the young female furnace worker
The furnace is burning, burning myself
Carefree, shining brightly, in the city streets.
7.2024
(1) The place where the furnace head meets the furnace market.
(2), (3) Terms from the furnace.
