Top 10 Beautiful Poems About Vietnam's Rural Villages

CHANGING HOMELAND
Poem by Dinh Khai

Come, let’s return to our homeland,
Where memories of our childhood still linger.
Regretful of the days long past,
He searches for them, but they’re gone, my dear.

Gone are the rows of areca palms in the village,
The nights we’d gather fallen fruits together,
The bamboo groves where we once rested,
Now there’s no sight of the green leaves.

The village no longer has the thatched huts,
High-rise buildings now stand like a city,
Paved roads stretch into every alley,
Cars now park at the door of every home.

The fields are no longer vast and wide,
Gone are the flocks of storks soaring by,
Houses now encroach on the rice fields,
Where we once wandered along the dikes, in days long past...

Though I know the villagers have prospered,
I still mourn the memories of what’s no longer here.
Let’s forget the nostalgia that’s now old and worn,
And celebrate the transformation of our land...

BY DINH KHAI

LOVING CÀ MAU
Poem by Le Huong

Come with me to the Cape of Cà Mau,
On a summer afternoon, in the cool breeze,
The Tam Giang River flows, boats going back and forth,
The sweet songs of Cái Nước, Đầm Dơi echo.

I love you, and I love each drop of sweat,
The salty scent of a man from the sea,
Your song is so sweet and soothing,
It refreshes the soul in the midday heat of Năm Căn.

In the U Minh forest, the meaning of love is salty,
The scent of cajeput trees drifts, searching for your eyes in the leaves,
You hold my hand, love blooms on this strange land,
I feel my heart falling in love with Cà Mau.

I want to kiss the moon and stars,
Of Cà Mau, where you are,
I want to kiss each leaf,
Where your footprints are in the cajeput forests.

You take me back to your homeland,
To love each river, each piece of land,
To love the honest men of the West,
Oh, how I love our homeland, Cà Mau,
Where the scent of cajeput brings us together...

Cà Mau, 2-7-2017

COUNTRY GIRL
Poem by Khanh An

Bringing my love to Long Châu,
To find you, the one I once promised.

I met you at the Đò Lo dock,
You stopped me... and told me not to hurry,
Why rush? Today, you'll take me to your village to visit.

I followed you, feeling nervous,
Your village is just as gentle as mine.
The words we speak, the way we talk, so warm,
And already, I find it hard to leave you.

It's hard to forget the sound of your laughter,
I feel lost in the sweet words you say.

You saw me off at Chợ Chờ market,
And as twilight fell, mist covered the scene.
Shyly, you whispered:
... Your country girl is clumsy, not like your town.

COME TO MY NÂU LAND
Poem by Hà Như Trần

Will you come to my Nâu land with me?
Let's enjoy the night by the beach's embrace
Out at sea, the lights flicker in the distance
The fishing boats sway, blending with the night.

Come with me, my Nâu land is so peaceful
The LONG THUỶ sea lies still, singing with the waves
Let's walk barefoot on the soft sand
It’s a dreamlike moment, as if lost in another world.

I’ll take you to visit a church
In BẰNG LĂNG, where ancient books are kept
Nearby is the quirky GHỀNH ĐÁ
The rock formations have withstood the test of time.

We will visit the ĐÀ river, the NHẠN mountain,
Where mountain and river embrace the soul
From the hills, you’ll see the bustling streets below
The city breathes life, as winds carry distant dreams.

We’ll head to LA HAI, a mountain town,
Where the local women are talented and graceful
In the past, this place witnessed fierce struggles
PHÚ MỠ, where the first Communist Party was born.

Let’s go south to ĐẠI LÃNH cape,
Where ships once sailed in secret missions
Fighting for the nation's freedom,
The success is etched in our national history.

We'll visit the vast rice fields,
Tuy Hòa’s rice was vital in the war effort
At GÒ THÌ THÙNG, where history is preserved
At ĐẦM Ô LOAN, taste the sweet blood clams.

There’s so much more to see, so many wonders,
Come with me, let’s return to my Nâu land.

Poem by Hà Như Trần

VIETNAM'S RURAL VILLAGE
(Poem by Phan Huy Hùng)

The rural village of Vietnam was built with blood and sweat,
Blood flowing like rivers,
And bones piling up to form mountains.
For over four thousand years, it has never asked for anything.

It only requires the hearts,
Those who sacrifice for the people and the country,
Who come from the rural village,
And love each other like family,
Building and transforming the village.

Who says they are unrefined, unable to speak well?
Seventy-five percent of rural lands remain untouched,
While the remaining twenty-five percent may follow trends.
If they face a challenge,
Who will win? And who will lose?

05.01.2017.

RETURN TO MY HOMETOWN...!
Poem by Phan Trung

Will you visit the small town of my homeland,
Where the mountain town is embraced by a cool, green river?
The Pắc Pó cave, as beautiful as a watercolor painting,
The mountain shaped like a person, commemorating great leaders.

The land of Cao Bằng always radiates warmth and love,
It embraces all the people of our nation.
In the struggle, there's no fear or weakness,
They stand strong when the nation is in danger.

Like Kim Đồng, he never thought twice,
He joined the fight, unaffected by his young age,
Moving under enemy fire as if nothing was wrong,
His heroic deeds are clear, don’t you agree?

When you visit, you'll love even more,
The enchanting Bản Giốc Waterfall, under the moonlight,
The water flowing, echoing like a beautiful song,
The terraced fields stretching endlessly, growing tea plants.

Come here, and you'll hear once more,
The land of Viet Bac, the safe haven of Uncle Hồ,
Where all the plans laid by him began,
Guiding our country through many storms from that point.

THE CARVER'S HANDS
Poem by Nguyễn Văn Chương

My village is full of traditions and customs,
Born of the earth, nurtured by parents, with a legacy of painting.
The land is joyful, the scenery beautiful, the people refined,
And the girl's hands are skilled in art.

She learned the craft from her parents,
Her carving tool, as deft as cutting through a fresh betel nut,
She never attended an art school,
But her hands have worked the soil deep with dedication.
Her love is like a cup of full wine,
Her carved paintings enchant all who see.

The wooden panels are carved and set,
The north wind chills, while harvesters finish their work.
On the porch, Yên Phong paper is stacked,
Five layers of leaves are dried under the evening sun.

Waiting for the art, like waiting for a lover,
On the riverbank, boats drift, swaying gently.

Her hands are rough, calloused from work,
The winds slip through, marking the passing of time.
The figures carved are deep in thought,
With glistening eyes and a tilted head,
Her work tells stories untold,
No one can replicate her unique style.

- Here, in these peaceful months, at the right time,
Hùng Kê, Đại Cát, the rooster crows at dawn.
- Here, the banner of the Two Queens flies,
For the people, the country, and the home it protects.
- Here, the Four Seasons, the Second Spring,
Here is the melody of love, from the story of Thạch Sanh...

It is not easy to carve like this,
The hands of Tố Nữ Thuận Thành, who is capable of such mastery.
The needlework is skillful, mending the seams,
Silk worms spun, and mulberry trees planted.
The conical hat tilts as she dances across the bridge,
At night, I dream of crossing the deep river, collecting treasures.
The scent of grapefruit and jasmine fills the air,
The crescent moon, like a comb, rests in her green hair.

A man cannot be alone in life,
He wishes to marry into the Đông Hồ painting village...

P.S: (1) 'Land is joyful, scenery is beautiful, people refined': These are villages in the Tú Hồ area, such as Tú Tháp, Tú Khê, Đạo Tú, etc. (Tú means both talent and beauty).
(2) Ve: the tool used for carving paintings.

THE VILLAGE MARKET
Poem by Phạm Hùng

A small flock of chickens wander, looking for their mother,
The village trees stand bare as the evening falls.

............................................................
In the empty plot at the edge of the village, it’s bustling,
As morning dew still clings to the branches,
This is my village, where every day, during the last days of the lunar year,
It’s lively, pushing life’s rhythm to grow faster.

Voices fill the air with laughter and chatter,
People bargain, sellers entice, non-stop,
The large pomelos still hang from their branches, golden and ripe,
While the banana bunch is tall, reaching up to one’s waist.

Bundles of green cabbage look lush and fresh,
Round, white turnips sit gleaming with smooth skin,
The tomatoes are ripe, plump, and inviting,
And the green onions proudly display their freshness.

The white lychees proudly stretch their branches,
And the peach tree buds with delicate green blossoms,
The chrysanthemums exude a soft, soothing fragrance,
And the roses stand with royal elegance.

Children gather to learn their letters,
An old scholar grinds ink as he writes poetry,
The fabric seller boasts of fine silks,
While young men wander around, admiring the pretty girls.

My mother packs glutinous rice to make cakes,
While selling chickens, she buys pork to stuff inside,
Some beans, some noodles, and fruit to complete the mix,
Ah, the Lunar New Year is fast approaching.

These memories from my childhood come flooding back,
Waiting for rice cakes, hoping for new clothes... they rush in,
While life moves swiftly, I still linger,
Lost in the corners of the village market.

PH. 05.01.2017.

The Memory of Cà Mau

Poem by NS Lâm Bình

The sweet rose blossoms in the tranquil West,
As I gently walk back into the past...
Where I was born is where I will always keep,
Through the years, the soul of the land became a hero.

Cà Mau, a part of my parents' life,
Once a heroic war zone, now a peaceful land,
The earth shaped the people into soldiers,
Enduring nine long years without yielding!

When I boarded the boat to the North...
No one expected it to be a journey of 21 years,
With a newborn in my mother's arms,
Across the vast ocean we sailed.

After over 60 years, I return to the beloved land of Mũi,
Quietly searching... the memories left by time,
Heavy with longing... what remains in the fragile moments?

The old ferry dock, the green moss-covered rocks,
Where my mother gave birth to me in pain...
The small boat still lingers...
Carrying the spirit of countless soldiers who protected the land.

In April, I return to relive the old memories...
Listening to the new sunlight... the laughter dazzling,
Shining on the grand, majestic houses,
The land has shaped the figure of its current master!

I listen to the rhythm of time,
Moving in the farthest reaches of our homeland,
Where I was born, and where I belong,
The land's soul today glows in the evening red!

Cà Mau, 10/4/2017

P.S. (As I prepare to write a book about the life of my father, General Lâm Thái Hòa, I returned to the land of Mũi and had these emotions and images.)

MOTHER'S LAND OF TRÀNG AN
Poem by: Tony Bui

I return to the beloved land of my mother,
Passing through Tràng An*, memories linger,
Old memories etched on ancient trees,
A long-cherished love that has been kept for years.

Ninh Bình*, oh,
Forever beautiful, the love we shared,
Destined to be together, bound by the betel and areca nut,
I return, overwhelmed by memories,
Following the storks, crossing the river of time.

The sweet scent of the past still lingers,
Filling my heart with deep affection,
The land of my mother glows with a thousand blooming flowers,
In Hoa Lư*, the red phoenix flowers blaze.

Faintly, I hear the lullaby drifting by,
Children laughing and flying kites in the wind,
The violet sunset stretches long before the gate,
There, you stand, waiting for me.

Warsaw
03/06/2018
* Famous landmarks in Ninh Bình Province.