May arrives at Chua Village*
Standing by Uncle Ho's house, the rain suddenly stopped.
The child's feet moved hesitantly.
It's so close, yet so far away.
Temple Village. |
This is the place where Uncle Ho used to frequent.
The sound of father reading, the sound of grandmother singing lullabies.
The sound of the mother's loom weaving in autumn.
Reflecting on the soul of Uncle Ho, contemplating the complexities of life.
And here is the hammock from a bygone era.
Bamboo bed, loom weaving songs of the homeland.
The person who left said the crescent moon will become full again.
The old betel nut trees in the garden still stand waiting.
Decades spent with the mountains and rivers
Returning to visit, I found no one there.
In the old house, sparrows carried food.
The sound of chickens from the neighbor's house on the other side of the gate drifted in.
May arrives in Chua Village.
I hear of a land experiencing a rebirth.
The incense stick burns brightly, a symbol of heartfelt emotions.
Outside, the sunlight suddenly shimmers in the afternoon lane.
*Chua Village: President Ho Chi Minh's maternal hometown
Source: https://baobacgiang.vn/ve-lang-chua-postid418105.bbg






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