Top 10 Finest Poems by Poet Van Cao

Time slips through my fingers

Drying leaves it touches

Memories within me

Falling like pebbles into a dry well

Only the green verses remain

Only the songs stay green

And your eyes like two wells of water.

Spring, 1987

Source: Composer Van Cao, talent and personality, Bich Thuan, Youth Publishing House, 2007, p. 234

Autumn in the village

Leisurely silence

The village evening sun

We love the whispering autumn

Golden hues on the water's surface

Path adorned with bright shadows

A season of exams

A season of exams

Falling leaves bring melancholy to yellow ones

The moon embraces the cold mountain, dew hardens the leaves

Once heard the wind welcoming autumn

Soul follows the wind, gliding through the night

A tranquil evening
A tranquil evening.

1944

This poem has been adapted into a song of the same name by composer Van Cao.

Is there anyone riding back to Kinh Bac?

I send a plea to deliver this letter?

Heaven! Lying ill in the inn

How many poems do my friends have left...

Peering through the door: the sky fades to yellow

A few withered leaves serve as a reminder of autumn!

The sickly evening slowly descends

Mist sinks, mingling with sparse golden leaves.

O, rider returning to Kinh Bac

I send a letter to bring back to my aged mother

Struggling to shout, my voice is weak

Horses gallop, the music fades away.

14-10-1941

Source: Van Cao, Leaves, New Works Publishing House, 1983

A boat passes by

leaving ripples

A train passes by

leaving echoes

A crowd passes by

leaving shadows

I don't pass through, I

leave what?

Source: Composer Van Cao, talent and personality, Bich Thuan, Youth Publishing House, 2007, p. 231

Seawater pours around Hai Phong on stormy days

Rural landscapes undulate, sky and earth sway

On bamboo shoots, salt accumulates like moss

What remains, a bit of dry straw from floating roofs

Fishing nets shattered and scattered by the wind

Rice trucks from Hai Phong to villages ceaseless grind

We, day and night, dredge water to connect dikes

Rehydrate fields, rebuild each hamlet that spikes

Seeking the smiles on the faces that survived

Red flames blaze nightly on the beach, vividly derived

In these difficult days, burdens stacking

Our enemies emerge, land dragons changing colors

Hidden among the ranks

Fortune-telling octopuses

Sit atop sail ropes

Measuring the water's depth

White octopuses

How many limbs drown one human being.

The country is rising, skin and flesh

The country is still shedding blood day by day

I want to neatly wrap life like a piece of cloth

Already seen worms curled within the bud

They desire the tender ones just learning to walk to fall

Fatigue gradually erodes the strength of land clearing

Empties the people, slowly retreats hope

Withers the sprouts of creativity, devalues human worth

They are beside us, within us, stealthy

Digging deep into rice funds, medicine

I have seen each face, each name strung together

I will expose each name to the surface

Stop

Those who want to embrace the spring tree but prevent it from growing

Those who want to make big trees but suppress young shoots
Our path proudly the force

Our path, proud and unique

The path around the earth, under the sun…

This is an excerpt from the long poem 'Those on the Seashore', featured in the poetry collection of four poets: Hoang Cam, Van Cao, Tran Dan, and Le Dat, published by the Literature and Arts Publishing House.

Source: Ta Ty, Ten Faces of Literature, Nam Chi Publishing, 1970

They, my comrades

Suspend me on a tree

Waiting for a series of explosions

I will sway like a young deer

At the end of the rope

Similar to a female comrade

A hero from Ha Tinh

I must cry out

Like every soldier shot by the enemy

Vietnam Labor Party, eternal

For everyone to understand when I die

I'm still a party member

For everyone to understand when I die

My blood is still Vietnam's blood

Under the tree, there are old grandparents and mothers

Who nurtured the revolution

Little ones, from three years old, stand watching me

Leading to death

My mother is there

Three times bringing meals to the prison

Turn away

For comrades to shoot me

I fear the old folks won't survive

For many years

To witness our socialist society

Pass away, carrying the image of a slain child

Shot

I fear the little ones are still too young

How long will they remember

How long until they forget

The image of me hanging on the tree

Shot

Turn away

For comrades to shoot me...

Tears at this moment for the Party fall

Blood at this moment for the Party flows

Vietnam Labor Party, eternal

Vietnam Labor Party...

(1956)

This poem is provided by the musician and poet Nguyen Trong Tao.

Bouncing strings synchronized in pairs

Heart lifting sweetness to the lips

Hey, sing a song of yearning

Gently hum, oh sweetly utter the words

Why does the guitar keep lingering in autumn?

Why does the guitar keep lingering in autumn?

Listen to the harmonious sound of echoing strings

Wandering in the golden night when music lulls

Like Tu Ky listening to Ba Nha's melody

You listen, I play a distant autumn tune

Boat flowing to the serene shore, boats leisurely

White river, distant banks, shadows of houses

Sad singing voice, my beloved

Every star falls, one by one

Gently the moon sinks, the wind sighs

Fishing lights in the distance flicker faintly

Fingers press strings, soaked in dew

The Northern melody glides, the Thuong melody flits

The Tieu Kim Thuy river murmurs, roosters clamor

Raising my head, I see the majestic temple smoke

You're speechless, I'll stop playing

Farewell, two friends glance at the zither

A cold night of music on the Perfume River

Oh, nostalgic memories linger on the green robe.

Source: Selected Vietnamese Literature (Volume 7: Literature during 1900-1945), National Center for Social Sciences and Humanities, Social Sciences Publishing House, 2004

I meet him again

Silent like a photograph

He, sharp as a knife

Inflicts many wounds on friends

He carries within me many faces

Which is the last one

Only his two eyes

Pure white, impossible to deceive.

Source: Journey of the Last Winter, Tieu Dao Bao Cu, Literature and Art Publishing House, USA, 1997