April Poetry Page

Remember this, my dear: On April 30th, Vietnam is no longer a bean.

Báo Đồng Nai•10/04/2026

Illustration photo: Hai Yen

Remember to listen to me on April 30th.

Remember that, my dear.
April 30th
Vietnam is no longer a bean.
On a map of the five continents

April 30th
Half of the letter "S" returns to the whole letter "S".
The country is united as one.
Both banks of the Ben Hai River
Their eyes met, their tears flowing in the same stream.

April 30th
"His blood spurted out with the rainbow of gunfire"(*),
Heroines at Dong Loc Crossroads
has become the soul of the nation.

Remember that, my dear.
April 30th
Our entire nation will win.

(*) The poetic idea "The Stance of Vietnam" by Le Anh Xuan.

Ton That Quynh Ai

Purple water lilies at the foot of the monument

The buds burst open, covering the surface of the lake.
Get up from the mud.
Loyalty blossoms into a flower.

My heart remains loyal.
The gun completed its mission.
Concealing the sound within the victory monument.
Only the silent purple flowers remain.
Shining brightly like a candle lit in the sky.

Vibrate
Thousands of young arms greet the new day.
Be mindful every day.

Red Swan

By Song May Lake

You cast the net, I throw the fishing line.
No matter who builds a dam to divide the May River,

The river of Vinh Cuu, the river of life
Brown pebbles have settled in the lake for eternity.

The spirit of a wild beast transforms into the roots of a tree.
Our lives have passed the slope of the Cloud River as evening approaches...

Tri An, March 6, 2026

Duong Duc Khanh

Mang River in the afternoon

It was just spring, and the Mang River was bathed in unusual sunshine.
I went searching for you when the water receded, my heart filled with sweetness.
I feel sorry for those whose footsteps traverse the long border.
Enduring the four seasons of rain and sunshine amidst the vastness.

The border outpost is quiet and desolate.
The river embraces the villages and hamlets of the land.
The wind-swept slopes of the rubber forest are turning greener.
The deep red of the Vietnamese land symbolizes eternal loyalty.

The green shoot resembles someone's figure.
Waiting for the wind to beckon my loved one to stay.
In the dusty lands, the shouts of the army resound forever.
The river turns into gentle clouds, flowing slowly, waiting for you.

The Mang River this afternoon is a solitary stretch.
Through months of cherishing happiness.
Like I waited for you on the dugout canoe
Through all four seasons, it braves floods to carry silt.

Tran Thu Hang

The two banks call out to each other.

Mist blends with the waves.
The Dong Nai River flows slowly in April.
Thin smoke dissipates into the ephemeral.
Ghenh Bridge awaits the moon to shine.
The sound of cicadas is faintly audible somewhere...

Where does the river go?
The two banks of the river have spent their lives gazing longingly across the sea.
Just a gust of wind
Just across the river by ferry,
To soothe each other's troubled hearts.
The waves roll in both directions, each burden fraught with worries and complexities...

April sunshine spills everywhere.
Diving footprints in the red sand
Passing through a dream of blazing forests.

The sound of grass and trees rustling green along the riverbanks.
The river's sound is sometimes low, sometimes high.
On the islet, someone called out.
The sound of longing is the trail of waves at the stern of the boat...

The Dong Nai River flows slowly in April.
Ghenh Bridge is still waiting for the moon to rise.
It's only morning now.
There is a flower waiting to be given a name.

Tran Thi Bao Thu

That forest

What do people pray before the incense burner at the grave?
My vision suddenly became blurry.
That forest is green in my mind.
It does not depict the dreamy, misty atmosphere.

That forest has been sleepless for many years.
to witness the searches
like history that will forever remain restless.
about the chapters of life in my youth.
The day of return without remains.

Only night after night in the heart of the earth
Tell the plants and trees about all the things you don't know.
in that vast forest
The flowers still retain their fragrance, and the birds still sing their intoxicating songs.

What do people pray before the incense burner at the grave?
My eyes suddenly welled up with tears…

Doan Trong Hai

Silence before the sea overflowing with spring.

Twenty years old
Forgetting, remembering, remembering
We met by chance again by the sea.
silence

Two weary sand crabs stand silently amidst the vast expanse of white sand.
The two weary seagull wings hung silently, suspended precariously against the blue sky.
Two severely wounded mountain goats lay silently in the gloomy depths of the forest.
Two battle-hardened veterans stood silently, bewildered by the old battlefield.

I watched the waves crashing silently.
We watch the clouds drift by in silence.
Twenty springs spent traveling to the mountains and the sea.
A young girl with a wounded poetic heart, steps like a mature woman.
We wander aimlessly, begging for fame and fortune, our hair turning gray as we read through each page.
Only the waves remain, still captivated and innocent.
Silently, they kissed the golden sand, filled with the lingering chill of spring and winter.
Just as I once clumsily kissed your eyes, glistening with dew, when we first fell in love.

Phan Hoang

And...

A crescent moon the color of jade or a gentle glow.
My name
Your face
Your gaze
Her gentle smile radiates

Long, long ago, he knew he had encountered a smile like that.
Encountering such a bright light.
That halo of light protected an entire lifetime.
It could be called happiness.

And...

Thai Quynh An

Hello April

April arrives, the sun slanting across the thatched roof.
Touching the porch, I feel the warmth of days gone by.
The wind gently calls forth the seasons of flowers from long ago.
Hearing that, my heart suddenly felt like a child's.

There is a road shrouded in mist in the sunlight.
Walking barefoot, I hear the earth breathing softly.
The cicadas are still shy about calling out in the early morning.
Just whisper to awaken the space.

That April - an afternoon with kites soaring in the wind.
The long rope stretches across the blue sky.
We keep chasing after a very small dream.
To lose myself in the gentle breeze

There's a soft grassy bank where your hair is smooth.
We lie there listening to the clouds tell stories from above.
The sunlight falls gently through the transparent gaps between my fingers.
Memories fall, I dare not touch them…

The April breeze carries the scent of warm earth.
The smell of dry straw and the distant sound of laughter.
Games of hide-and-seek behind the small bamboo grove.
Hiding childhood memories in gentle eyes.

April arrives – quietly, without haste.
Just gently open the door to a bygone era.
The sun is still the same, the wind is still very young.
I alone grew up during my midday nap.

Hello April - hello to a time of innocence!
Hello to days that we don't yet know what to call forgetting.
Let me hear the wind tell its story once more.
That childhood… still quietly lingers on the doorstep.

Dinh Ngan

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202604/trang-tho-thang-4-3f51395/