Top 10 Finest Poems about Hanoi

Author: Thái Thăng Long

Sails no longer dot Hang Buom's horizon

Where do boats dock when you arrive?

The Red River is far and wide apart
Sands of time, white in spring.

Hang Chuoi

Bananas are no more

A few aged rice stalks

Lonely birds dotting the scene.

Hang Nau

Then to Hang Luoc

Lice combing your hair in days past.

White shirt, long hair on the streets.

Lemon scent, autumn's fragrance.

Hang Dao, how many degrees of peach blossom?

Hang Bac seeks goldsmiths.

Hang Cot branches off to Hang Than.

Hang Da, she looks for shoes and sandals.

Hang Non, white hats neatly lined

Hang Bong, where fabric flowers bloom

Hang Gai, whose night echoes

With the resounding voices of troubadours

Hang Ma, flower market on Tet

Roses and peach blossoms like in Nhat Tan.

Shivering cold reflected in the eyes

Enchanted by the hues, the flowers

I love the modest Phai street houses

Crooked and simple, with artistic flair.

I love the rows of trees, the grassy banks

The Pen Tower writing through millennia.

Sword Lake, the Golden Turtle has surfaced

Will you return in spring?

Thirty-six streets and guilds of Hanoi

(1996)

Author: Trần Đăng Khoa

Hanoi has kites,

Spinning freely indoors,

No need for wind,

No need for you to run far.

Hanoi has many flowers,

Bundled carefully,

As folks come to buy,

Smiling brightly they roam.

Hanoi has Hoan Kiem Lake,

Its water as dark as ink,

By the lake stands the Pen Tower,

Writing poetry to the sky.

Hanoi has many lakes,

Guns full of bullets,

And many dolls,

Round shadows for everyone.

Hanoi has electric trains,

Rattling back and forth,

People getting on and off,

Everyone looks beautiful.

Despite years of bombardment,

Ba Dinh remains green with trees,

The yellow moon at One Pillar Pagoda,

Tay Ho adorned with flowers...

1969

Source: Trần Đăng Khoa, The courtyard and the sky, Ethnic Culture Publishing House, 1999

Author: Hoàng Anh Tuấn

You, Hanoi, along Đường street in your voice,

Have Bông street softly lining a dream,

I miss the evenings of Old Quarter days,

I craft a romantic poem,

Childhood poetry engraves the alley's love,

Oh, Hang Cỏ Station, a gentle trace still lingering,

Following your footsteps through Hài Yêu street,

Combs brushing softly scented hair,

I miss the old days, Cổ Ngư street skipping school,

A naïve soul following the Đàn melody,

Hang Guốc, noon tapping a peaceful rhythm,

When Hang Nón tilts to shield rabbit eyes,

I stumble, embarrassed, in Đồng Xuân Market,

The wind whispers in Hang Quạt, clothes swaying,

Here, in Hang Khay, I offer a poem,

You startle, the sun just fading in Hôm market,

Poetry drifting lost, my soul a Drum street,

Hearing Hang Gai and its sharp, sad tip,

Oh, poor Hang Ngang, first love's blame,

I resentfully dream in Hang Buồm, a romantic wanderer,

You, Hanoi, in the form of Sinh Từ lady,

Seek me in Hang Giấy, thin paper pining,

Hearing the melancholy of Tô Lịch river,

Poetry rich as longing for Hang Bạc,

Hang Vôi's intense fragrance in the dizzying,

Desire ripe in Hang Đào's parted lips,

Asking Hang Than for burning passion's flame,

When wrapped in Hanoi's affection.

Author: Lê Viết Hòa

I'm seeking you amidst Hanoi's nocturnal streets,
Crowded roads,
Hurriedly crossing paths,
Strange faces.

I'm seeking you,
In the deserted streets of old,
A lingering scent in my nostalgic heart,
Faint hues of ambiguous colors.

I'm seeking you,
A bit of serene tranquility,
A shimmering moon,
Gently reflecting upon the silvery West Lake.

I'm seeking you,
A cloud-like tender breeze,
Autumn replacing leaves,
The scent of hometown grass flown away.

I'm seeking you,
Only seeing myself and my shadow,
A long trail filled with memories,
Gleaming amid life's bustling rush.

I'm seeking you,
Embracing my heart,
Tears for a Distant Season...

Hanoi, 13/10/17
(Lê Viết Hoà)

Author: Hoàng Minh Tuấn

The drumbeats of the school days have passed...

Which phoenix blows up the memories.

The joys and sorrows of youth

The love, hatred, and worries...

I go, in the noon sunlight

Leaving behind the old school

Golden sunshine reigns on the small shoulders,

Tearful farewell between stayers and leavers.

I go, determined steps forward

Crossing everywhere, life is like that

Our heart once thought not small

Before the full of pains and sorrows.

I go amidst the laughter

And memories gradually sink into oblivion

I thought I was gradually forgetting with the years

Old friends, old school, and blue sky.

I go, so much longing around...

Miss Hanoi, miss the old school

Miss the flamboyant streets

Miss the way home I often pass.

I don't know why with each step away

Hanoi returns in deep heart

Oh, I miss the familiar flowers

Showing colors together every spring.

How beautiful when the levees turn red

The whole countryside is full of rice flowers blooming

Which street holds so much longing

Which scent of grapefruit makes so passionate.

I remember even when autumn returns

The cicadas chant in the streets of Hanoi

The streams of cars rushing very fast

Oh Hanoi, so warm with people!

Then the rain suddenly stops falling

Leaving Hanoi gentle and calm

The glaring lights no longer in the empty alleys

Suddenly sun, suddenly rain, we're used to it.

I remember the autumn leaves falling

I remember the intense fragrance of milk flowers

I remember the fresh red color of leaves

Of the banyan tree at the end of someone's street.

The fragrance of Vong village's green rice is so intense, so intense

I never forget that suburban area

I've been to many places but still feel

Hanoi of mine is heavy in my heart.

I also remember Hanoi in winter

Trees shedding leaves before the wind

Longing for the twilight evening sky

West Lake waves coldly step into the night.

I remember the original white color

Of the White Daisy when winter comes

So beautiful, how many girls

Even though winter comes, Hanoi is still gentle.

I always remember the tinkling sound

Of the tram carrying people on the streets

Regret so much that trams are no longer there

Miss the shadow of the old tram.

Oh Hanoi! I'll forever remember!

Hanoi, 2016

Author: Nguyễn Lan Hương

Wait, Come back to Hanoi and hear me out
The sun is scorching, even the cicadas hide
The streets are crowded with human statues
Migrant quilts come and go.

Wait, Come back to Hanoi and hear me out
Before all the unspoken words burn out
Trees wither under a glaring sun
Phoenix flowers fall before they touch the ground.

Wait, Come back to Hanoi and hear me out
The old pond banks have turned into high-rise buildings
Old trees stretch their cruel branches
Dragonflies exist only in folk tales.

Wait, Come back to Hanoi and hear me out
Waiting for the rain to make the streets vibrant again
Let's return to our foolish youth
Blend with the rain in the dance of childhood.

Nguyễn Lan Hương, May 2017

Author: Lâm Thanh Bình

Spring comes, poetry fills the sky
Warm fragrance of blossoms carries love's essence
Leaves and flowers begin to bloom anew...
The sun sprinkles its sparkling rays on branches

You and Hanoi in green spring
A moment of hesitation, unwilling to part ...
Spring brings sweet melodies
The lullabies of yesteryears remain deeply in our hearts

Separated... then reunited once more
Spring brings verdant luck, exchanging love's roses...

The Saigon sun sends a bit of Hanoi's winter
Intoxicating, mesmerizing your eyes!

You and that green spring in Hanoi!
Sending breezes of undying affection
Life's path is filled with many challenges...
Yet still, we continue to seek beloved Hanoi!

(HCM 7/10/2017 NS Lâm Bình)

Author: Nguyễn Thị Thơ

I stroll beneath Hanoi's autumn sun
The gentle golden rays softly pass
Clouds drift leisurely as if unhurried
The breeze quietly carries memories from afar.

Though I know the soul should be serene
To live peacefully is indeed precious
Why does Hanoi's sunshine stir such fervor?
What dreams are nurtured boundlessly?

The sunlight delicately touches the willow branches
The wind echoes a melancholic tune
Suddenly, the sky faintly weeps with rain
Whose shadow returns to the old street, faded?

Author: Dao Ba Truong

Then one day, I rediscovered the riverbank, where West Lake's waves still gracefully sway. The breeze carries the fragrance of blooming pink lotuses, painting the sky with the melody of those who have gone far away...

You, radiant and lovely, amid the blossoms, amidst the serene scent lingering in the air... Those pink lotuses, tinged with the blood of comrades, amidst the tranquility...
Hometown fragrance...
Fragrance of flowers....

Dao Ba Truong 23.4.2018

Author: Mai Thuy Thanh

The sovereign of the celestial realm soars high,

Constructing and nurturing this land of hills and rivers.

In harmony with the heavens, illuminating the path,

Uniting the hearts of the people, revealing this place.

The annals of history record the fragrance of deeds in the red book,

Precious penmanship adorning the azure sky.

Loving the nation, cherishing the people, creating great endeavors,

For humanity, eternally leaving a legacy.

14/4/2018_29/2/Year of the Dog.