Poetry Face: Hoang Thai | Gia Lai Electronic Newspaper

(GLO)- Hoang Thai is a VTV newsman, currently holding the position of Deputy Director of VTV8. That means in my eyes and many others, his poetic emotions will be stunted even though he studied literature at Hue University. But one day, he showed me a collection of poems and I was surprised by the fresh and emotional feelings.

In recent years, on the pages of Tet newspapers, his poems have appeared as a "popular poet", although he still says he is just "passing through the poetry village". Passing through but the poems are full of emotions like this: "We mark each other's lives with a leaf/from the time we broke the branch to the moment we silently left/please hold on to the oozing sap/soaking each other to make up for the spring". And here again: "The village is sad/using the death anniversary to make... happy/telling stories of hunger and fullness, laughing and crying/outside the old bamboo bushes still writhe/only the bamboo shoots carefreely dance around the garden".

I read in him a very professional but also romantic attitude, so his poetry is light as air but also full of weight, making us have to read and ponder at the same time.

Poet Van Cong Hung selected and introduced.

MOTHER'S WET SIDE

Illustration: HT

Even though I want to lie on the wet side, I can't anymore.

The old bed is only in the song of the past

Windy day I come back to listen to the rustling of bamboo fences

The sad wind interrupted the folk song.

The baby is still rolling around but the place where mom lies is now empty.

Instead of lullaby is the sound of falling leaves in the garden

The dry side now soaks the pillow

for decades still shed tears of orphanage

February night cold and cloudy

There is a grey-haired child who dreams of being held.

groping around, choking with grief for the deceased

It rains a lot, where my mother is staying, it never stops raining!

My family is no longer in poverty.

warm clothes, full food, only missing mother

many sad nights, longing to return to childhood

let me get wet once for mom, okay…

AUTUMN MARK

Illustration: HT

We mark autumn with leaves

Yesterday afternoon I sat by the window

Don't deny it, it didn't do anything wrong.

just stopped by to catch the laughter.

I mark autumn with a leaf

fragile as a smudged lipstick

kiss hastily and also fall hastily

like a love affair passed by.

We mark each other's lives with leaves

the moment of branching up to the moment of silent departure

Please hold on to the flowing sap

soak each other to make up for the spring.

We mark autumn with leaves

come and go very softly in life

If you can, kiss me very lightly.

In the moment of loneliness I sing a song of compassion.

Since that day the leaves could not return.

The autumn marks we carved are covered with dust

deserted porch the window is now closed

on the sidewalk of life dead trees do not wait for autumn...

HIDE THE MUD STICKS

Illustration: Huyen Trang

Windy porch

the back is also windy

poor family so open to lullabies

in memory the sound of termites gnawing away the years

broken leg pillar

limping human

Lives without sweat

out of rice only dream of full of letters

fear of leap year with extra month will make you weak

the grain armor is scratched and the basket is tossed back and forth.

Sad Village

borrow the death anniversary to make... fun

tell the story of hunger and fullness

outside the summer the old bamboo bushes are still writhing

only bamboo shoots carefree dancing around the garden.

drifting homeland

motherland sand

expatriates return to keep their roots

fear of grandparents losing grandchildren

trembling question

how long until the village name is deleted?

turn face to hide the mud

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