Top 10 Outstanding Poems by Poet Nguyen Binh

Homeland

Yesterday you returned from the province
I waited for you at the edge of the village's dike
Wearing a silk scarf, trousers neatly pressed
A buttoned-up shirt, you made me suffer!

Where is the oak silk bodice?
The hemp belt dyed in springtime hues?
Where is the four-panel shirt?
The bird's beak scarf, the black deer skin pants?

I'm afraid to voice my disappointment
I plead, please keep your rural simplicity
Like the day you went to temple
Dress like that to please me!

Lemon flowers bloom in the lemon orchard
The monk, us, and our rural feet
Yesterday you returned from the province
The scent of the fields, carried away little by little

1936

This poem has been set to music by composer Trung Duc with the same title, and composer Song Ngoc with the song 'The Scent of Fields, Carried Away Little by Little'.

Sources:
1. Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - poetry and life, Publishing House of Literature, 2003
2. Nguyen Binh Hong Cau, Complete Works of Nguyen Binh (volume 1), Writers' Association Publishing House, 2017

Spring Rain (I)

You're a girl in a silk frame
Weaving silk year-round with an old mother
Your youthful heart is like white silk
The old mother hasn't sold at the distant village market

That day the spring rain drizzled
Layers of lemon flowers fell, covering everything
The village rowing team passed by
Mother said: 'Thon Doai sings tonight'

I feel like spinning a thread of love
You pause in the middle of your work
It seems your cheeks blush
Perhaps you're thinking of him

Neighbors have lit their lamps
You raise your hands under the eaves
The rain soaks your hands, each drop cold
How could he not come to see!

You ask mother's permission, hurriedly leave
Mother asks you to come back and tell her
Because of the rain, your clothes aren't wet
Thon Doai is just a dike away

Thon Doai has a singing gathering tonight
You're busy looking for him, no time to watch
Surely tonight the bed is cold
Lying alone, longing for your fingers

Waiting and waiting, he never comes
Yet the other day he sang in the village
Seven years of waiting, he promised
Even the spring season slips away gently!

Alone, you trudge along the way home
Nothing but a strip of dike!
A thin coat covering your head, heavy raindrops
Makes the late night even colder

You're angry with him till morning
The next day mother asks what was sung
'- They sang...' then you see
Tears flow, you turn away

That day the spring rain felt shy
Lemon flowers crushed underfoot
The village rowing team returns
Mother says: 'Spring has ended today'

Oh dear! Spring has ended today
When will I ever meet you?
When will we row past Thon Doai
So my mother can say they sang tonight?

1936

This poem has been set to music by composer Huy Thuc with the same title.

Sources:
1. Selected Literature of Vietnam (Volume 7: Literature Period 1900-1945), National Center for Social Sciences and Humanities, Social Sciences Publishing House, 2004
2. Selected Works of Nguyen Binh, Literature Publishing House, 1986
3. Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - poetry and life, Literature Publishing House, 2003

Misstep Across

To my dear sister Truc

1
'- Oh, sister! Stay at home
In the strawberry garden, our old mother waits
The old mother, one sun, two dews
You take one step, a hundred roads of regret
I rely on you, stay at home
In the strawberry garden, our old mother waits

Today the roads are filled with firecrackers
Tomorrow the smoke of firecrackers will linger throughout the village
This journey, stepping across
Shatters golden dreams from here
You drink the red wine until drunk
Enjoying with me the last few seconds
Then waves and winds across the river
Full of boats of resentment, you worry about not reaching the shore
The ancestral temple awkwardly selects people to worship
The incense house, cold smoke, you rely on me
Last night was as white as three nights
You, pitying yourself, a bird leaving the flock
One shoulder bearing a load of hardships
Another shoulder carrying myriad memories of love
With tired eyes and tangled hair
What use is there for you to comb your hair!
This one time stepping out
Is a departure without a return
Across several deep rivers
And hundreds of thousands of swaying bridges
It's over, it's resigned
Stepping across the river, how will you fare?
Your youthful blush fades like peach blossoms
Full of boats of resentment, do you know how many people!
Don't cry anymore, oh my dear!
Whatever happens, it's done, listen to me!
One rises, seven sink
A hundred pains, a thousand bitternesses, hearts gradually wither
Even if you love your sister tenfold
You can't stop her from leaving once...

Jealousy

My dear little mistress!
I want your lips to only smile
When you see me and your eyes...
Look at me when I'm far away.

I want you not to think of anyone
Not to kiss, even if you see fresh flowers
Not to hug the pillow, sleep tonight...
Not to bathe this afternoon, the beach is crowded with people.

I want the scent of your perfume
That you often dab, doesn't drift far
Doesn't make passersby dizzy
Even just passing by, guests pass by.

I want the cold winter nights
Don't hide under the quilt with you
Otherwise, I want you not to meet
Any boy, in dreams.

I want your breath to be light
Don't moisten the clothes of unfamiliar guests.
Your feet leave marks on the dusty road
No footstep can step on.

It means being too jealous, that's enough,
It means loving too much, it's gone
And it means you are everything.
You are everything to me!

Yearning

Thon Doai sits longing for Thon Dong
One person recalls nine, hopes for one person
Wind and rain are heaven's illness
Yearning is my sickness, loving you.
Two villages share the same village,
Why doesn't that side come to this side?
Day after day, day after day,
The green leaves have turned yellow.
They say the ferry crossing is blocked,
Not crossing means there is no way.
But here, a distance from the village,
How far is it for love to be far away...
Yearning stays up for nights on end,
Who knows for whom, who can say?
When will the shore meet the ferry?
When will the flowers and butterflies of the river meet?

Your house has a rich trellis,
My house has a row of areca trees in the room.
Thon Doai remembers Thon Dong,
Does the areca of Thon Doai miss any village?

Hoang Mai, 1939

This poem is used in the additional reading section of the Literature 11 textbook for the period 1990-2006, Literature 11 from 2007.

Sources:
1. Selected Works of Nguyen Binh, Literature Publishing House, 1986
2. Selection of Vietnamese Literature (Volume 7: Literature period 1900-1945), Center for Social Sciences and Humanities, National Social Sciences Publishing House, 2004

The Dream Picker

Pondering in the evening path, a poet
Intoxicated, gazing at distant green mountains
The air is calm and pure
Faintly, the dream forest, where she picks dreams

Oh dream picker maiden
Have you not returned? The road is far
And the twilight seems to be fading
Or will you stay and return with me?

Our home lies beneath the wild plum tree
Half a mile from Perfume Pagoda Cave
A stream flows gently, murmuring
And flowers by the stream emit a fragrant scent

Oh dream picker!
We exchange no words, just a glance
Then silence, and you fade into the shadows
The dream forest mourns as dream leaves fall...

1937

This poem has been set to music by composer Pham Duy with the same title.

Sources:
1. Selected Works of Nguyen Binh, Literature Publishing House, 1986
2. Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - Poetry and Life, Literature Publishing House, 2003

Shadows at the Station

Departures commence from here
Broken melodies on a snapped string
Lives adrift, solitary
Following one another day and night.

Once I saw two girls
Heads close, weeping quietly
Two shadows melding into one
'Is the road home far, sister?'

Once I saw a lover bid farewell
To another lover on a twilight eve
In a desolate, distant station
They held hands, swaying in the wind.

Two old friends see each other off
One on the platform, the other below
Urging each other to attend to their affairs
Shadows blurred in darkness long ago.

Once I saw a couple
Parting bashfully, shadows lengthening
She adjusts his scarf:
'Go back and take care of mother, darling!'

Once I saw an old woman
Bidding farewell to her departing son
The train has long departed, yet she remains
Back bent, her shadow cast upon the platform

Once I saw a wanderer
Directionless, lost in thought
Feet trailing after a lone shadow
Bearing the weight of separation.

Tears dampen earth-toned scarves
Hands wave goodbye to hands
Wet eyes meet wet eyes,
Where else is sorrow deeper than here?

I have awaited many departures
Transported many on their journeys
Why is that station, that platform
Only for harboring farewells?

Hanoi, 1937

Sources:
1. Nguyen Tan Long, Nguyen Huu Trong, Pre-War Vietnamese Poets, New Life Publisher, Saigon, 1968
2. Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - Poetry and Life, Literature Publishing House, 2003

Visiting the Virgin's Spirit

Evening creeps slowly in solitude,
Willow threads flow down to the lake.
All around me and everywhere,
Hanoi's streets teem with white scarves.

Tears run around, emotions tighten,
Now I weep for one returning!
Now I feel bitter souls,
As if someone invites a farewell toast!

This morning countless yellow leaves fell,
The maiden virgin has passed away!
A white carriage passes by,
Two white horses lined up in pairs.

Taking her away in a white coffin,
And cold white wreaths.
Following, those in white robes,
Crying for the virgin soul endlessly.

To bring her to this cemetery,
She came here and stayed.
Oh, what day is today?
Forever I'll remember this day.

This morning after a heavy rain,
Hanoi lit up with golden sunshine.
Many maidens, so pure and white,
Sadly follow the funeral procession's track.

From now on, forever apart!
How to find the shadow of her.
Just yesterday still shy,
Hand holding a red candle to her lips.

A blue shirt like a lake,
She just made with the early autumn wind.
Autumn wind, how many more winds remain,
The shirt now silver beneath the tomb.



Surely on nights like last night,
She still dreams amidst flowery bedding.
- Flower bedding scented with a spring sky -
Until the cock crows at dawn.

Surely on nights like the night before,
Midnight chill, autumn wind returns.
She still stirs, holding tight,
A soft cotton pillow in her sleep...

But this morning she's silent,
Blood paused in her heart.
An old mother quickly tears a white mourning cloth,
Hastily wraps it around her children's heads.

That old mother has lived for many years,
Has endured much pain.
Yet today she weeps once more,
Tears nowhere to be seen in the evening sun.

Those children have yet to cry for anyone,
But today they've cried for one.
And now on those youthful lips,
They'll never get to call out: 'Sister!'



She passed away by nightfall,
Perhaps someone went to catch the evening breeze,
By the lake to let the rain soak,
Counting forever the footprints.

That person seems to know her,
Once calculated crossing paths.
But her soul is like a small boat,
Hastily planted a thousand autumns at the golden stream.

What has been lost here?
The heart feels as soft as too much wine.
In panic, that person searches in the darkness:
Only to find their hand grasping another hand.

*

In just a few days, then what?
(People's remembrance will be brief)
People will mention her name to
Tell her story as if telling a tale.

I and her never knew each other,
Yet I mourn because why?
'A beauty of ancient times like a famous general,
Promising nothing but the white-haired head.'

Hanoi, 1940

This poem has been adapted into the song 'The Virgin's Soul' by composer Trinh Lam Ngan.

Sources:
1. Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - Poetry and Life, Literature Publishing House, 2003
2. Hoang Hong, Nguyen Binh - Poetry, Literature Publishing House, 2010

The Ferrywoman

Spring has brought longing back,
In the heart of the girl at the riverbank.
She recalls three past springs,
On the dock with someone she made heavy promises.

But then that springtime guest,
Left without returning... with the riverside.
How many springs have flowed away,
How many times the girl tiredly watched...

This spring, it's been three more springs,
The flame of love slowly extinguished.
Shall she hold onto hope forever,
The girl must break her promise to her love.

Leaving the boat, the dock, the river's flow,
The ferrywoman goes to wed.
Since then, the young girl's been absent,
To mourn for those who cross the river...

This poem has been adapted into the song 'The Ferrywoman' by composer Nguyen Dinh Phuc.

Sources:
1. Selected Works of Vietnamese Literature (Volume 7: Literature Period 1900-1945), Social Sciences Publishing House, 2004
2. Selected Works of Nguyen Binh, Literature Publishing House, 1986

The Final Kiss

Holding hands, softly he spoke:
- Why shed tears needlessly?
Kiss each other one last time,
You go, I go.

Then one, two, three years,
Duty calls him back.
With you, he plows the fields,
With you, he weaves the cloth.

We'll be husband and wife.
We'll love each other forever.
We'll knit the pink thread,
We'll sing the song of love.

He and you will live,
In a thatched cottage.
Bamboo sparse as the gate,
Willow as the curtain.

Hear me, my dear!
Why shed tears needlessly?
Kiss each other one last time,
You go, I go...

This poem has been adapted into the song 'The Final Kiss' by composer Van Phung.

Source: Hoang Xuan, Nguyen Binh - poetry and life, Literature Publishing House, 2003