After the sun comes rain, the wet, muddy rainy season carries streams of water carrying alluvium to streams, rivers, and plains, enriching the green fields. Who has ever lived or passed through this red basalt land without leaving some in their mind? SGGP newspaper introduces two poems about this land by Le Quy Nghi and PN Thuong Doan.
THN
Return in the falling leaves
Old leaf season
where are you
wind
The basalt road has been trampled for years.
I'm going to skate by you
tilted island night
Legs now
distant handrail
Green again
have more gold leaf
Where are you that I miss you so much that I leave the branches bare?
Self-igniting
just me and the leaves
Burning poetry
listen to the old season reborn
LE QUY NGHI
Wallflowers and the Morning
Morning passing the gray brick house
The roses are blooming brightly and waiting
gentle, seductive scent mixed with immense nostalgia
The wind asked the clouds, why is it raining this morning?
Strange clouds before the color of flowers I remember
The old garden
old slope
new cup of tea
The basalt-colored wooden shop welcomes guests with a mournful sound.
wet lyrics in the flying rain
the old person is gone
the sound of the guitar falls sadly
Morning wandering out on the street
The high and low slopes of the lake shore curve like a circle of fate.
Wallflowers smiling welcome autumn
fragile red leaves remind each other of our promise
We do not go to sea but the sea is dark
The levels of regret and fading love,
silver in the cold wind blowing around the slope
morning without sun, feel sorry for two extra hands
cold numb fingers
Hesitantly walking past the gray brick house with only the sky left
mossy yard
blurred doll smile
some dreams fall…
PN THUONG DOAN
Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/nho-mau-dat-do-ba-zan-post815146.html
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