Top 10 Famous Poems by Poet Vương Đình Trọng

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Hush now, little one, parents are off to court!
Big sister, seven years old, soothing her three-year-old brother
The little boy cries, his stomach unused to hunger
Big sister tears her shirt, demanding food.

Parents left since morning, unlike any other day
No cooking and no conversation
Two small shadows at the end of the alley
On the same path, why can't they wait for each other?

What to use to calm you down, little one, it's hard to say
Other than the two words heard in court
Perhaps it thinks like going to the field or to the beach
Sooner or later, parents will return.

Mother cradles the baby, caressing
Father fetches water while mother stokes the fire
It's content, in and out, giggling
Then gathering around, the rice pot is opened wide!

Little does it know parents went to court
Facing each other, facing the law
Not like before, registering for the past
No sweet words of days far apart.

Little does it know parents went to court
It's like sawing through the bond of reunion
For the one with no more father, and soon no more mother
Two sisters will then lose each other...

- Hush now! Your crying voice is hoarse
Big sister sniffles, tears streaming
Parents on opposite banks, dividing
Just for a moment, listen to the sound of your child!

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Once deemed the fate of Đạm Tiên
Unforeseen, here lies Nguyễn Tiên Điền
Gazing up high, bowing to the thick earth
Biting my lip, grasping my hand
A desolate land stretches far and wide
The old man lies among ten types of beings
No scent of pear blossoms, no melodies of flutes
A pair of winds returns from distant hills
Rustling dry leaves and withered grass
Feet on sandy soil, narrow winding paths
Silently by the tomb I stand
Hardly believing I've reached the place I sought

No branches to beckon the birds
No flowers for the butterflies to bring more sunlight
No warm grass to touch the hands
The incense stick planted in the tomb sways again

In the verses of Kiều during the Clearing Spring
Tearful, reading with the Nghi Xuân twilight
Bowing in remembrance of the literary master
Worldly fame left for worldly affairs
When will the rifles leave the shoulders
Slaked lime, carried stones to build monuments
A big heart amidst nature
Bonds of love connecting through a thousand distant years...

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Doctor mother often works night shifts, home deserted
One year old, sent the child to the countryside
The countryside where the child belongs
Why does it feel so distant now, mother?
A misty road, rain falls
A road where the wind always blows in reverse
A ferry ride, people wait on both sides of the river
A bamboo bridge, waves bobbing
The child is far away, mother stays awake in the vastness
Fingers touch the wide bed
The hammock is untied, only the rope remains
The sound of 'ơi' lingers at both ends
The child is far for weeks, mother thinks months
The child is far for months, mother feels the years pass slowly
Where is the golden hair touched by sunlight?
Innocent lips calling out: Oh grandmother!
Half a year passed before the child saw father's face
Father returns, then quickly departs
Don't blame the child, father is a soldier
How often can a soldier stay close to home?
Mother brings the child to live with grandmother
Mother's love divides into two paths
Half carried away by the wind to a strange land
Half blended into the waves, lullabies
Father's heart also split in two
Half missing the child, half longing for mother
Only the child remains too innocent
Will the child ever know to miss father?
Will the child ever know to miss father?
That longing the child reserves for mother
Father travels throughout his youthful days
Still intact in mother's farewell
Still intact like today's longing
Father's figure in the military uniform
Don't blame mother for the sleepless nights
Longing is the happiness of days apart.

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Growing up separated by fences
One fine day, Sister-in-law steps into the house
Brown blouse, black silk trousers
Carrying a bright three-leaf bag, her head tilting

Where's the husband, where's he at home?
You, the youngest brother, mother-in-law ill often
Being a daughter-in-law faced with poverty
Sister-in-law's hands rowing through worries

Our homeland, the ever-changing sun
August rains flooding into October
During the steady rain, under the sun's drying
Sister-in-law quietly passes her youthful days

Youngest sibling's meal encircles her
Head over the pot, stirring continuously
Remembering the day Sister-in-law arrived
The whole family, except for a pot of vegetable soup

Thinking and missing Sister-in-law dearly
Afternoon rain, rice runs out, mother-in-law bedridden
You sit, eyes misty
Straw hat, carrying baskets across Sister-in-law's garden
Afternoon, why keep raining
Twilight, don't fall before Sister-in-law returns!

You go to university far from home
Experience separation during war summers
Then love, then start a family
Home affection, Sister-in-law's love remains
No habit of sending love and longing
You return, Sister-in-law still the same old sister
Feet marked by rain-washed paths
Add an egg to the meal, bought from the neighborhood...

Hair now fearing silver has mingled
Firstborn's child, Sister-in-law ascends to Grandma
You return, then leave again
Sister-in-law's midnight soup warming by the fire
Sending off, Sister-in-law's feet unaccustomed
Packing sticky rice following you onto the train

Gazing back at the mountain behind
You search for Sister-in-law's figure against the blue sky.

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

When returning, after the saddle, cut down the horse
An Dương Vương, what did you think?
Or along the road, everyone is an enemy
And listens to the advice of the Golden Tortoise.

Enemies behind - regardless of divine words
One must rely on their own eyes
Princess Mỵ Châu clings to her royal father, trembling
As half the sky is filled with smoke and war

Goose feathers fall, white feathers scatter
Tearing clothes as if tearing one's own flesh
In a moment of chaos, where did the lover not come?
My dear Trọng Thủy, this lady has fled the city!

Tears fall swirling in the wind
Father's back and the horse's back soaked in sweat
Feathers all gone, this lady will leave the saddle
Waiting for the last feather for you, my love.

And unexpectedly, An Dương Vương turns back
Expecting comforting words from the royal father
Mỵ Châu raises her face, waiting
From the heavens, a bright sword flashes

Not feathers falling but a head rolling to the ground
Lying at the end of the road like a punctuation mark
Why kill? My Châu knows not
Blood congeals into stones, Hoan Châu's land.

Being a king yet having divine counsel
Thinking twice as wisely and justice doubled
But the dead, not knowing why they die
The soul of injustice knocks on eternity's door.

For thousands of years, the sea has ebbed and flowed
In times of peace and amidst battles
Do not blame Mỵ Châu any further
Love sincerely, what crime is there?

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Stones into stone benches
A plaza turned into a park
With the glow of dusk shimmering
Is it a swan song or a white sun?
The Đà River suddenly
Dreamy and gentle
As the gentlemen gather
That song takes flight

Deep voices, breaths
To the rhythm of the guitar
At this moment, he remembers
'Moscow Nights' (*)
I sing along with the melody
Though not knowing Russian lyrics
What's so hard to understand
When you sit beside me
When you bring your youth
Singing with the waters of the Đà River

Heartbeats in the mechanic's shirt
We've known each other for so long
But on sunny summer days
Even the stones sweat
Your skin ripe like a fruit
Need a pulley in the sky
Your hands like a loom
Pulling the cable with mine
I love the folk song
Many times we sang together
Before mastering Vietnamese
Your hands on the guitar
My heart goes back to the North
With the Cầu River, the Thương River

The sky in dusk hues
Watching the star atop the mountain
Your heart just met
A hometown star
Warmth in every breeze
That song echoes far
The Đà River merges with the waves
'Moscow Nights'

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

At Cung Wharf as the evening falls
Encounter the river, deserted with no ferry
The sky's hue, the water's vastness
Sitting quietly on the sand, waiting for the boat.

Hearing a mournful call from afar
Seems like the longing of both banks
The 'ơ' sound bends over the bridge
The narrow river shrinks within the verse

The boat's still at the shore, not yet departed
Bent like a distant eyelash
Another folk song arrives
Passengers bustling, the boat's words beckon!

Folklore waits, nine times eager
The singer now seems still far away?
No concern for boats crossing storms
More concerned with the hometown's waiting pier.

The boat rows into the river's heart
Your hat strap not aligning
Waves tilt your figure
The folk song extends its reach with the breeze.

You've fought enemies for ten years
Know a thousand docks, are familiar with a hundred rivers waiting
A moment of nostalgia now
You and the essence of the riverside folk song.

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Ascending to Cao Bang, no fear of slopes
The Giang Pass, the wind pass has long receded
Ascending to Cao Bang, no fear of hunger
The water clear, white rice ready since long ago
Ascending to Cao Bang, no fear of illness
The market abounds with herbal remedies...

Ascending to Cao Bang, I only fear
You might not be there to find anymore.

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

Sleepy brooks whisper, late awakening
Clouds part as we rearrange the scene
Wide doors open to a startled heart:
Is there anything left in this mundane sphere?

Stepping on Bodhi seeds, climbing each step
Reciting brief sutras, shortening the path up
At the deserted peak temple, no Buddha's form
Thankfully encountering your smile.

Into the forest, the soul merges with Buddha
White clouds, silver-headed green pines
Down the streets, the monk's robe flutters
The elder monk, also a brother!

Author: Vương Đình Trọng

The beauty doesn't sleep in the castle
She waits on the floorboards for the dawn
Border guards patrol the frontier at night
The wind rustles every step of the stairs.

The beauty sits by the stove, peeling bamboo shoots
White shoots or white wrists?
The knife slices, its blade gleaming
What a sharp gaze those eyes possess!

The border guard jests with just one line
To see the beauty smile, a tear in her eye
White teeth, fresh lips
Why does the beauty's hand always linger?

The beauty is used to welcoming the men back
A red-hot stove, mountain mist dry
Boiled fern shoots fragrant with every puff of smoke
A bowl of taro soup, enticing invitation.

Not eating much, the beauty is not happy
A smile extinguished, can any fire be lit?
Then eat more, responding to genuine hearts
The patrol route has many slopes, the night is long.

The border guard goes out into the falling rain
The beauty sees him off at the foot of the stairs
Good night's sleep! The beauty, just one word
It sounds familiar, sweet along the border!