It's April, and we're going to Da Kai.
Old friends gather here, at the home of comrades.
A boundless love when seen in the white hair.
They embraced, reminiscing passionately about the battlefield.
Still in the spirit of H50, unafraid of obstacles.
Looking into each other's eyes is like searching for our youth.
These are rambling, nonsensical stories that bring tears to your eyes.
My heart aches for all the comrades who couldn't return for our joyful reunion.
The jungle malaria victim's skin is still pale and bluish today.
Recalling a time of fierce war
Tons of rice, medicine, weapons and ammunition
Carried on his back across the battlefields of Zone Six.
I remember those evening meals, bowls of soup mixed with rainwater.
The hammock sways gently, I lie there gazing at the moon and remember my mother, father, and the elderly.
The letter to my lover wasn't finished yet, but it was time to gather.
Once again, an unfinished love letter... oh, autumn wind...
The lustrous hair my mother gave me is thinning with each passing spring.
The ranks grew shorter, and I felt sorry for my comrades.
My heart told me again: War requires sacrifice...
Heroic battles, seeing the wreckage of downed planes.
The more confident we are about the joyous day of victory.
The roads we've traveled, the new roads we've opened.
The warehouses were carried on shoulders.
Familiar mountains to climb, deep streams to cross.
At twenty years old, the H50 army possesses miraculous strength.
Today we gather here to celebrate this reunion.
No one talks about the achievements and accomplishments of their life.
Just tears and smiles are enough to give each other everything.
And joy overflowed, a great celebration within us.
Da Kai, April 12, 2025
Source: https://baobinhthuan.com.vn/h50-sang-mai-mot-thoi-129359.html
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