The afternoon in Hue descends like a soft silk ribbon across the sky, dyeing the space purple with a gentle, melancholic light. On the water's surface, the last rays of sunlight fall in thin, golden fragments. A gentle breeze stirs the small waves, like the soft sigh of someone reminiscing. Perhaps that's why, standing before the Perfume River, one easily becomes quiet; all the noise of life seems to fade away, leaving only a space deep enough to hear the voice of the heart.

The Perfume River flows silently like a long dream. From the upper reaches of the Truong Son Mountains, the river carries the scent of the forest, damp earth, and the rains that have passed. Upon reaching Hue, the river becomes gentle, like a young woman who, after days of wandering, suddenly becomes graceful and tender. And then, that stream silently embraces the city, like the arms of a mother who never ceases to be forgiving…

But there are also moments when the Perfume River stirs, as if awakening the hidden vibrations of heaven and earth. This is during the rainy season, when the sky lowers, enveloping Hue in long, incessant rains. The ancient capital is immersed in a melancholic love song, where the water's surface trembles gently under the thin veil of rain. Boats drift silently by, carrying with them distant memories of the season. The current suddenly becomes stronger, more rapid, like the heartbeat of a woman entering childbirth.

In that moment, I thought of childbirth. Not the childbirth of the body, but of time. The Perfume River seemed to be giving birth to new layers of memories for the city. Each time the water level rose, the river recounted the old story: the boats sailing up and down, the folk songs sung under the moonlight, the silhouettes of purple ao dai dresses slanting across Truong Tien Bridge in the afternoon after school.

Hue is tranquil, and the Perfume River is even more so. But it is precisely this stillness that makes every emotion so profound. A falling leaf on the water's surface is enough to create ripples that spread far and wide, and the ringing of the bells of Thien Mu Pagoda is enough to make the river's surface suddenly feel strangely sacred.

Sometimes I wonder, do rivers also know how to remember?

I remember the moonlit nights of the past, when the water's surface shone like a giant mirror reflecting the entire sky. The seasons of yellow corn and rapeseed flowers along the banks, the breeze carrying a very gentle fragrance. And perhaps I also remember the people who once sat by the shore, silently watching the water flow and entrusting their nameless feelings to it. The Perfume River flows quietly like a deep realm of memories, embracing the verdant banks. The shadows of the trees fall, gently touching the still water. The evening descends softly, the light fading, leaving behind a profound peace…

The river flows peacefully through countless seasons of rain and sunshine, carrying layers of silt like the memories of a lifetime. Time may pass, and roads may become unfamiliar, but the Perfume River remains, a haven of peace. Perhaps someday, I will no longer often stand silently watching, no longer hear the whispering of the water each morning or evening, but I know that if I close my eyes and sit by the river, it will reveal countless stories of life on the water. Joy and sorrow, all are washed away by the cool water…

Hoai Thanh

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/doi-song/dong-song-thuong-nho-165639.html