As the sun disappeared behind the distant trees, the sky gradually sank into a hazy abyss, leaving only a few vibrant colors clinging to the horizon. Standing on this side of the Perfume River, looking across at Phu Van Lau, the first lights began to cast their reflections on the water's surface. The river at night transformed into a gentle mirror, perfectly reflecting the city's splendor as darkness fell. All of this served as a backdrop for the red of the national flag fluttering atop the flagpole.

In the summer, I often stroll along the wooden bridge, sitting on my familiar wooden bench, waiting for the final glorious moment of sunset. High above, night has just begun to fall, casting a soft, dark velvety glow. When the lights on the bridge are switched on, the river immediately becomes strangely radiant.

I saw children excitedly gazing at the wondrous colors, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. Whispers of admiration from distant visitors gently permeated the air. People praised the city's beauty, the river's charm, the dazzling sunset... and I felt as if someone had poured honey into my heart.

My hometown is upstream, where two streams merge before flowing down to the Perfume River. When I was a child, the village didn't have electricity. On hot summer nights, I would often sit on one side of the river, fascinated by the light on the other. My father would often ask, "What's the difference between the two banks of the river?" I would reply, "It's the light."

Without that sparkling light, my village would forever be shrouded in desolate darkness. Perhaps that's why the children on this remote riverbank always harbor a longing: that when they grow up, they will fly across to the other side, towards the light.

Then, when their wings have spread wide enough, many return, gently sowing green seeds in their homeland. What light could be more beautiful than that kindled by the love of those who return?

I left my canvas shoes at the corner of the bridge and walked barefoot on the wooden path along the riverbank. The sun had been scorching all day, yet when my feet touched the rough wooden planks, I could still feel the coolness of the water. After a long day in front of a computer screen, this leisurely moment by the Perfume River was when I returned to myself, listening to the breath of nature, of the plants, of the river. Before the dazzling beauty of the land and sky, even the most troubled heart gradually calmed down. It became gentler. More peaceful.

I am captivated by the unique brilliance of Hue at night. It's the soft, ethereal light that blankets the ancient trees within the Imperial Citadel on a summer night filled with music. The lights blend with the mist and haze, permeating every moss-covered wall, making the Citadel even more profound and mysterious in the quiet night.

The music rises, gentle as a small stream. Sweet voices permeate the air, softly stirring the listener's soul. The Hue night is whispering stories through melodies and a truly magical light.

Standing next to me that day were visitors from Hanoi . They happened to be passing by Hien Nhon Gate and got lost in the crowd. I liked the astonished look in the eyes of the man from Hanoi as he enjoyed the atmosphere, a mixture of amazement and joy. A wonderful performance, and free admission. He kept exclaiming in admiration. In Hue, beautiful things often come so gently.

In the dim light of the night, the Imperial Citadel seemed to awaken amidst the foliage, amidst the soft footsteps coming and going. I strolled along the old paths, gazing up at the dark canopy of trees against the sky. The night was truly peaceful, yet each moss-covered wall, each ancient tree, seemed to whisper ancient stories, stirring in my heart countless unspoken thoughts.

The night in Hue gently descends into silence. And there is a shimmering light that drifts within, enough to hold us captive. For a very long time.

Le Ha

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/van-hoa-nghe-thuat/lap-lanh-dem-156698.html