Author - Work: The forests have not yet reached...

( Quang Ngai Newspaper) - In 1971, when I crossed Truong Son to reach B2 (war zone R) in the South, I mentally calculated how I could get down to the plain battlefield. That was my greatest wish. The leaders of the Military Propaganda Department were very sympathetic to this wish, but advised me to wait for an opportunity.

Then, I had to get used to the battlefield while still in the war zone. I obeyed the military orders, but my heart was always anxiously looking towards the plains battlefield, just hoping to leave quickly. That feeling was expressed in the poem “The Forests Not Yet Reached” written in 1971, with my imagination about the day I could go down to the plains.

After working at the Liberation Radio Station for nearly a year and a half, I received orders to go down to the plains. It was the end of the “Red Summer” campaign in 1972, around the beginning of September, I went with the military propaganda team to My Tho.

Our march across Dong Thap Muoi was not easy. We went by boat, waded through water, traveled at night and rested during the day, it took us a month and a half to cross Dong Thap Muoi. It has been 52 years, thinking back now I feel happy, but at that time it was extremely difficult. Having crossed Truong Son-mountains, and then Dong Thap Muoi which I called Truong Son-water, I was somewhat satisfied. Going to Truong Son-mountains, malaria was natural, but going to Truong Son-water, I also had malaria every other day. Even though more than 50 years ago, after returning from the My Tho battlefield to the war zone, I wrote the poem "A soldier talks about his generation", in which there was the line "Our generation does not live on memories". When I was young, I thought like that, now I am old, thinking differently, it is also normal.

This December is "Army Month", I always remember that I am a soldier, even though I am not a combat soldier, but I am still a soldier, I suddenly remember the war days when I longed to go to the plains battlefield. I have fulfilled that desire, and thanks to that, I have grown up to be like I am now. War is fierce, but when you really get involved, it is the best opportunity to grow up. When I have answered the question: "Delta, are you like that?", I feel more confident, more experienced, and ready to accept many things, even the unpleasant ones.

The forests yet to come

The forests are always in my heart
Is the sound of the waves rumbling in the rainy afternoon
It is a sky so high that it seems suffocating
Is the green plain sucking the rising sun

The silent tree arches spread in the night
The moonlit trails are dotted with spots
The slippery side poles show signs of people hanging hammocks.
The forests I have passed through

The wind here - oh the wind far from home
The wind blows in the direction we have not reached yet.
The great river ebbs and flows in sleep
The coconut roofs lean down to wait and see

Under the tree we talk with the planter
Eat a bowl of soup is mother's bowl of soup
Lying on the banana bank is no longer strange
The smell of the earth is as strong as the history of our ancestors.

The flying blade tilts in the dazzling morning sun
Do Chieu's poem is about the green forest - leaves - darkness.
River night, lights flickering
And the sandbank is decorated with fireflies and lanterns...

Oh plains, are you like that?

A place that has not been lived yet has become a memory
The figures appear and disappear from near and far
The lapwing calls for high tide... at the end of the forest

Even though today bombs wipe out houses
White Melaleuca flowers burn within cannon range
The sound of helicopters drowns out the sound of bees.
The night ship shines sparsely with fishing lights

Older mother, white scarf and silver hair
The shadow of the police station is still pressing on my chest, making me breathe.
Dark days heart buried in ashes
The loyal class has changed many times
Oh plains, are you like that?

The terrain surrounded by people
Thousands of torches at night - flowers - lanterns - uprising
On the old foundation, mother builds a new happy day
Welcome the children from all directions

The monsoon winds blow and the water flows passionately.
Liaison boat connects the two banks morning and night
The white-crowned pigeon calls like a chopstick
Oh plains, are you like that?

Oh this afternoon like the wind blowing the forest trees
Our troops moved down there in droves.
Through the open space through the breathtaking green
The - un-reached - forests await us.
1971
THANH THAO

Source: https://baoquangngai.vn/van-hoa/van-hoc/202412/tac-gia-tac-pham-nhung-canh-rung-chua-toi-37017f0/