Verse

The reality of the great Vietnamese national liberation war, with its epic qualities, gave birth to an entire body of poetry, deeply permeating it and elevating it to a higher level during a special historical period of the country. Poetry encapsulates major issues and is brimming with contemporary inspiration… To commemorate the 50th anniversary of the complete victory, Da Nang Weekend would like to excerpt some famous poems by renowned poets of this generation.

… Country
By mothers
Wearing a shirt to replace the shoulders.
Rice grains, sweet potatoes
She persevered in supporting her husband and children as they fought in the war.

Country
Of the daughters and sons
Beautiful as a rose, tough as steel.
We parted ways without shedding a single tear.
Tears are saved for the day we meet.

NAM HA

Trust in your hands.

… Our region is in Central Vietnam.
With two hands, anything can be done.
At fourteen years old, he knew how to handle a sickle and a hoe.
At sixteen, he knew how to cut down trees and build houses.
Hands accustomed to fire are not afraid of the heat.
Those accustomed to handling a plow are not afraid of getting burned.
Elevating the guitar to create music.
Gently rocking the cradle in my hands creates a cool breeze.
Hands that dig tunnels, hands that mend clothes.
In this battle
We believe in two hands.

LAM THI MY DA

Newcomers

...And bring the medicine.
Still carrying each other
How many accidents are there along the way?
Each book weighs as much as five bullets.
We had no choice but to bring the ammunition first.
Without books, we make books.
We write poems to record our lives.

We walked along, muttering to ourselves.
Poetry came and the afternoon rain quickly stopped.

HỮU THỈNH

Returning to my paternal hometown.

...Our homeland, everything is still here.
Even though our loved ones have fallen to this ground.
We once again encounter the faces of the people we love so much.
We look at ourselves, we gaze, we are captivated.
We trembled as we held their hands.
The longing in my hands burns with desire.

...
The first night I slept in my homeland.
Why do I feel so strangely warm inside?
Even though it was raining heavily outside.
The roar of the cannons shook the thatched walls.
Oh, my homeland is so beautiful!
Even though there were still bomb craters on the road.
Even though my shirt still has patches on it.
Only a loyal and steadfast heart can do that.
And the gun in his hand burned with hatred.
September 1965

LE ANH XUAN

Source: https://baodanang.vn/channel/5433/202504/tho-4005830/