The old road sings the words of father's footsteps urging
The thin shadow of a father cannot round up the thoughts of his son.
Mother knew how to write poetry when father went to war.
Kitchen smoke is even tone, bomb smoke is sharp tone
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Illustration photo. |
Waiting anxiously in the lonely alley
Mom writes poetry by the hammock's lullaby
Grandma said that on the front line, dad was singing lullabies to his comrades.
Sweet songs from the wind behind
Bomb craters hide the souls of the grass and earth
The reed war zone sings a song of blood
The letter pressed to father's chest was red with battlefield dust.
The definition of love smells like gunpowder
The definition of life is not without sacrifice.
And one day the smoke of war will end
Father returned to burst into happiness mother
The soapberry tree has been lonely since then.
Mother's hair is green with the memories of father's life
Mother lulls the storks to sleep with songs
Mother sings lullabies to father on windy nights
The scent of soapberry lulls the small alley
The rhythm of the march lulls the grass and flowers to sleep.
Lullaby... the child holds on to the shadow of his father.
Innocently walking in the vastness of life.
Source: https://baobacgiang.vn/gui-cha-postid416609.bbg
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