Pham Dinh Lan
Missing
Every time I see flowers blossoming
I feel nostalgic.
What kind of flowers do we have this season?
Do our people still know their separation?****
When I hear fire-crackers bursting
I think of my brother,
Who, for the sake of his Homeland,
Was fallen in a certain remote area.****
When seeing red,
Sadly I think of carnage
In the Summer of that tragic year.
Blood was spilt everywhere.****
The military band brings me back
To the patriotic soldiers,
Who had undergone danger and hardship
Before their bones were buried in the entrails of the Earth.****
A flock of white herons
Reminds me of our people,
Who plough and hoe their fields laboriously.
Their life remains shaky.****
When hearing the children singing,
I think of the Vietnamese children
Wandering along the sidewalks
To live their lonely life.****
The pagoda bell ring
Recalls me of the widowers
Who, in the course of their life,
Live with their missing memories and dreams****
When it freezes
I miss my dear mother
Whose sight is weak, whose legs are shaking,
Whose life is like cloud flight.
Pham Dinh Lan