Top 10 Best Poems about Bánh Chưng on Tet Day

Every spring, I reminisce about my homeland

Remembering my dear mother, the scent of rice husks in the air

Cherry blossoms bloom, swallows dance in the wind

Waving goodbye, calling out to the green sprouts

On New Year's Eve, my mother wraps the green bánh chưng

Each layer of banana leaves brings joy

This year's cake is as beautiful as my mother's daughter!

Smooth skin with a hint of grace

Firecrackers burst outside the gate

Pink shells form a path of happiness

On the wedding day, I follow my husband far away

Away from my dear mother, thousands of miles under the sky

The round mold from the old days is still here!

Each grain of rice lacks the touch of mother's hand

Ten years by my side quietly

Also learning to wrap bánh chưng like my mother

Leaving the homeland is... a celebration

Even with added beans, it's not sticky, not dry

Diligently wrapping with silent reverence

Gently murmuring as if my mother were here

The cake ripens, sheltered from the rain

Like mother's feet just arriving from afar

I bow my head silently by the candle

The plate of bánh chưng seems to speak aloud

Spring returns! I invite my mother, oh mother!

The candle flame smiles, radiating warmth

Tears flow in memories, soaking the bánh in my hand

In longing, I await my mother in my dreams

When night falls, mother, don't forget, please!

Author: Lê Hoàng Trúc

In the land of Văn Lang of yore,

A king, the sixth in line, Lang Liêu did explore.

The king sought a change, a vision to restore,

To transform the kingdom, to make it evermore.

He decided to choose a worthy heir,

To cook the finest dish, beyond compare.

Exquisite flavors, divine to taste,

Could never rival those by heaven's grace.

Yet unexpectedly, a twist of fate,

Lang Liêu received celestial aid, how great!

While pondering what to create,

Ancestor's advice, he did not negate.

Simple yet profound, the meaning deep,

Tết's Chung cake, a treasure to keep.

No one disdains the Dày cake, it's true,

Fragrant rice, abundant mung beans, too.

Symbolic of the earth's verdant hue,

Chung wrapped in green leaves, a form anew.

Molded round with glutinous rice,

Dày cake, a symbol of the lofty skies.

This precious dish, beyond compare,

Elevated Lang Liêu, to heights so rare.

With the advent of spring everywhere,

Once again, Chung and Dày cakes declare.

Author: Lệ Hoa Trang

As Tet draws near, I call upon you, oh Chung cake

To reminisce about the Springs of yore

Where at year's end, throughout the length of the land

Every street sees green dong leaves sway

Every water well surrounded by rice, beans all around

Hands agile, voices melodious in conversation

Smiles abound, friendly laughs all around

Wiping away the worries of the old year

I remember a year when ration cards were used

Mother managed to buy a few more pounds of meat

Chung cakes piled high, the whole family excited

Green leaves wilted and turned yellow... Oh, beloved Chung cake!

Gathered around the pot of boiling cakes, steam rising

Familiar fragrance fills the air, timeless

Though only once a year it's obtained

It leaves an indelible mark, a lifelong memory...

At dawn, lifting the cakes onto the rack

Pressing firmly for perfect squares

Satiated, full, wrapped in the cake:

Life tomorrow will be warmer, cozier

Oh, how once dreams were so... simple

Do today's youth understand

Do they know the beloved, cherished few

The Chung cake for Tet, the epitome of unity?

Remembering distant times, a day for all the land

Lost in the misty haze, smoke rising

Emerging from the pot of countless Vietnamese homes!

Oh Chung cake – I call out earnestly

How distant you've become, oh Chung cake!

Author: Thụy Anh

Wrapped in vibrant green dong leaves

Within, glutinous rice, beans, and spices

Bound by love, encased in affection

Fragrant and tender from Lang Lieu's time till now.

Source: Compiled

Rain scattering on the narrow path

Spring returns with mother's hair

Various lengths of joy and sorrow

Village lanes adorned with evening flowers

The green square Chung cake remains

Fragrant and tender to the core

Time's silver threads are intertwined

Square or round, bound and awaited

Whoever returns carries an overflow

Only seeing the peach blossoms smile

Understanding little in the vague haze

Drenched in the halo of dreams..!

Author: Mai Nhật Nguyên

Going to the market to buy ingredients for making cakes,

Tet is coming, and I am also preparing to welcome it with my homeland.

Pork and green beans,

Everything is complete and delicious.

Back home, I start making cakes.

The process is still neat as when Mom taught me before.

Only the leaves are replaced by a few pieces of cloth.

Here in Berlin, I cannot find those leaves.

No straw here has any strands.

But Mom, I still pack the Chung cakes.

Pressure cooker replaces the stove.

On New Year's Eve, I feel my heart doubt,

A longing for home, a deep longing for the distant homeland.

I still try to smile and unintentionally shed tears.

Once again choked, calling out for it, the green Chung cake.

Author: Đặng Ngọc Ngận

Fragrant rice, green dong leaves wrapped
With fragrant pepper seasoning, meat, and onions
The taste of the soil and sky condensed
The kitchen is bustling, young children sit and watch

Thai Binh, throughout the ages of Van Lang land
The borders are peaceful, enemies have retreated
The story of the sixth Hung king
Choosing officials, linking generations to the golden throne

Who remembers Lang Lieu's floating fate
Mother's short life passed away early
No strange food can be found
The sacred rice grains from the roots of the earth and sky

The sky is round, the earth is square
Guiding dreams, showing the way
The rice grains around us are precious jewels
Making offerings to the Heavenly King

Lives with extinguished smiles
Ups and downs of twenties
Rice crumbs, worrying meal by meal
Embracing the struggle for survival throughout life

Some pursue their passions
For years lost in a foreign land, they yearn
Warmth and ashes bury memories
Who gives Chung cake to remember the homeland

Set the altar, offering to ancestors
Cooking traditional Tet Chung cake
Descendants gather around the fire
No gift compares to family reunion.

Author:
Forgiving Poet Phan Thanh Long
Vice President of the Soul Exploration and Oil Mining Class K54
Hanoi University of Mining and Geology

Our children coming home fills the Tet air with joy

Grandma is wrapping chung cakes, eagerly awaiting their arrival at the doorstep

Grandpa's feet ache, limiting his movements

Always anticipating the return of the grandchildren every spring

These days, Dad reminisces about the Tet seasons in our hometown

Those years of hunger, poverty, and hardship

The faces of poor farmers, toiling in unity

Still trying to find more joy when spring returns

On chilly evenings along the riverbank

The old mother's silhouette, tired on the desolate riverbank

Carrying the weight of responsibility on her bony shoulders

One end to raise children, and one to support her husband

Ensuring there are chung cakes for the last winter night

Grandma has to endure cold feet during the harsh winter days

On the distant, desolate roads

The faraway markets have become nearer

As the children return home, remembering the cemetery

Lighting incense, praying for the ancestors' souls

Thanking our forebears for enduring thousands of hardships

So that today, our children can become someone...

Thinking of our homeland, tears keep falling

The days in our homeland are filled with toil

But when far away, in the long, restless nights

The image of our homeland remains deeply etched in our hearts

The Tet seasons in our hometown are profound and heartfelt

Accompanying us throughout our childhood

When we are far, our hearts truly understand

The New Year's cup of wine still intoxicates us throughout our lives

Author: J.B Nguyễn Hữu Vinh

Tet draws near, I call upon Chung cakes, oh dear!

To summon back the Springs of yesteryears

Where at year's end, across the nation's length

Every street adorned with verdant leaves' strength

Every fountain's flow, encircled by rice and bean

Nimble hands weave tales, conversations convene

Faces bright, smiles so warm and serene

Sweeping away last year's troubles, unseen.

Source: Compiled

In ancient times, we wrap Chung cakes with care

With dong leaves and banana leaves, who wouldn't stare?

Bring them home, wash them clean, with utmost precision

Withered, young, discard none, that's our decision…

Sticky rice grains, long and fragrant, we choose

Dunked in water, rinsed well, to ensure they're free of refuse

A pinch of salt, to enhance the taste, dried without much ado

Rice for each cake, two scoops in every view

Green beans, peeled, their golden kernels shining bright

Pork belly, peppered, marinated just right

In the kitchen, a big pot, all ready to go

Rice, leaves, and filling, soon in tow

Round and square, they're skillfully shaped by hand

Filled with beans and meat, a masterpiece, truly grand

Simmered all night long, without haste or rush

Round or square, symbolizing the union of man and spouse!

Seasoned well, on the red-hot stove…

Time passes, with each tick, patiently we trove

Infused with flavor, after the winter's chill…

Author: Cong Chinh