- 15:52 | Saturday, April 15, 2023
(QBĐT) - Bending the golden rice stalks in the fields
Holding hands. Gazing into each other's eyes. The riverbank. The ferry landing…
Who brings flowers and waves a folk song?
Bombs and bullets have no measure to count the day of return.
Ten years the soldier was away from home.
On the day I returned home, my mother wept, and I kissed her lips in love!
The scent of straw still lingers in the evening fields.
Does the sound of the nightingale's call pierce the forest smoke?
The village has now become a bustling town.
Still loving, still remembering every step…
I give you a drop of sunshine, my love.
Let him bloom again in the clear month of April.
Dinh Huong Giang
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