Yellow flowers by the river

In the prime of youth, almost everyone has someone they yearn for, but not every relationship ends happily, like the moon that waxes and wanes. Lovers' memories are often linked to specific places or times.

For Huynh Ngoc Huy Tung, the riverside location resonates like a love song, where "Life's currents drift and fade away / But that folk song remains... ours." For Tran Thang, it's the time of golden flowers, like the color of autumn's eyes bidding farewell with regret, "Having grown old, having understood life and death / Looking at each other, golden memories hurt even more."

SGGP newspaper introduces "Love Song by the River" by Huynh Ngoc Huy Tung and "Yellow Flowers" by Tran Thang.

Love Song by the River

Take me back to the riverbank.
Where the waves sing the feelings of bygone seasons
Clouds hung sparsely in the sky.
The bridge, weathered by sun and rain, still stands.

May, the ferry waits, withering away.
Her voice softly calls out to love in a distant homeland.
Life drifts aimlessly, fading away.
But that folk song still belongs to us…

The oar lulls the moon and stars into a dream.
The dream of silk garments falls into the vastness.
The suspension bridge resembles a golden scarf.
Connecting the two ends of the echoes of the city streets.

The traveler missed the appointed path.
The rustling wind on the slope stirs the heart.
Can you hear the sunset?
Temple bells echoed amidst the vast sea of ​​people.

He led me through life.
Like an old boat that has traveled back and forth a thousand times.
That white bridge evokes a feeling of wistful longing.
Where have those beautiful eyes, now shrouded in mist, gone...?

HUYNH NGOC HUY TUNG

Yellow flowers

The delicate yellow flowers pressed together reveal the eyes of autumn.
Forever in love, never becoming husband and wife.
a lifetime of dedication incurs a debt.
Will encountering heaven bring forgiveness?

The pebbles rubbing against each other left their mark.
We collided, shattering the full moon into pieces.
Having grown old, they have understood the meaning of life and death.
Looking at each other brings back painful memories.

Waiting for the flowers to bloom is a poetic day.
Waiting for old age to honor beauty
When there's nothing left to wait for
The ephemeral body is released into the realm of the moon.

The fragrance of a pure, innocent maiden.
mesmerized by the immortal golden hue
Attached to the hair in autumn, forgetting age.
Vast and boundless realm of ephemeral reincarnation.

TRAN THANG

THN

Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/ben-song-hoa-vang-post807649.html