Top 14 Best Poems Dedicated to Vietnamese Heroic Mothers

A Mother's Heartbreak

Can time erase it all?
The pain in a mother's heart, losing both husband and child.
Years pass, yet she waits endlessly,
Her heart aching, withering along with her frail body.

Child, come back to me,
I’ve prepared everything for you.
You left when you were still so young,
Forgetting the duties of a child in this world.

Your spirit roams in distant lands,
Does it feel the sorrow of a mother who longed for you all her life?
You sacrificed for the country and the people,
While I, an old and weak mother, await your return.

Now my heart is broken,
Your father and you went and never returned, leaving me alone.
My withered hands are cold, the incense bowl sits untouched,
As I wait for you to come home.

My devotion remains steadfast and true,
My spirit lingers in the smoke that swirls around me.
My child stands forever in the monument,
But please, come back to me, just for a moment.

Mother’s loneliness is too much to bear,
My heart is filled with sorrow, aching deeply.
The image of my aging self hurts more each day,
As I sit alone, waiting by the door, HOPING FOR YOU TO COME BACK!

The Heroic Mother

On Independence Day, she received the tragic news,
That nine of her children had fallen and would never return.
When the message reached her, her legs gave way,
Her heart broken as grief overwhelmed her.

Her hair tinged with the gray of sorrow,
Her eyes weary, worn out by time's cruel passage.
The wind carried the scent of incense through the air,
As her silent figure stood in the fading cemetery's shadow.

Trembling, she placed a branch of flowers on the ground,
As the spirits of her nine children gazed back from beyond.
The table remained empty, a humble meal absent,
As she waited with eyes clouded and dull.

Lonely and abandoned in her small village,
For her children had all left her side.
Through years of war and loss of youth,
Her soul returned to the earth, sacrificed for the nation.

THE STORY OF THE SECOND MOTHER
(Vietnamese Heroic Mother)

The small house stood quietly, year after year,
With Mother waiting, watching in silence.
Her eyes gazing into the void,
Sitting by the photograph, lost in thought each night.

How could she forget the years of war?
When she bid farewell to her sons, sending them to battle,
Always hoping they would return to her arms...

Then came the unbearable pain,
Each wave of grief locked away in her heart,
The bitterness, the anger, the sorrow,
All etched into her face, more wrinkled than before.

Her nine children, once waiting together,
Nine bowls of rice she lovingly prepared.
Today, the red flag flies high,
But why, oh why, do her children never return?

The burdens were heavy, but she never complained,
Where are her children now, lying in distant lands?
The wind and rain have turned her hair grey,
Yet this mother continues to wait, night after night.

Poem by: Hồng Ngoãn

LOVING ALL MOTHERS!
(Dedicated to the Heroic Mothers of Vietnam)

Alone, a solitary figure,
Husband and children, all sacrificed on the battlefield.

The kitchen, the meals, and the bed,
Worn out by age, she lingers as dusk falls.

Her eyes grow dim, her steps slow, skin wrinkled,
Her voice soft and slow, filled with gentle care.

Years of sadness, of waiting,
Not a day passes without longing, wiping away tears.

With salted vegetables, rice, and herbs,
She struggles to swallow, her heart heavy with sorrow.

What more is there to hope for?
Her hopes are gone, her heart silently still.

A faint shadow of pride remains,
She stands strong, her spirit aligned with the nation.

Mother, do not let your heart wither,
Our people are still fulfilling their duty.

Our nation will forever stand strong,
We gather around you, sharing your silent grief.

Poem by: Nguyễn Hường

THERE ARE MOTHERS WHO REMAIN SILENT

Mother sits, frail and worn,
Her meal, now cold, surrounded by the scent of incense and tears.
The wind blows, and the world seems to fade,
As her figure grows smaller with each passing year...

***

Is there any pain greater than this, my son?
Who can truly understand the depth of a mother’s sorrow?
For the Nation, Mother’s heart was torn,
Through two wars, for the homeland she mourned.

Some mothers, in quiet grief, sent their children away,
The country in peril, the land torn in two.
In Central Vietnam, mothers suffered silently,
By the Thạch Hãn River, where the blood stained the evening sky.

There are Second Mothers, loved by millions,
Sending off husbands and children, again and again.
Each child she sent away, her heart twisted in pain,
Tears rolling down, soaking the pillow at night.

The evening smoke rises, blending with the mist,
Nine black ribbons, the sky turned pale.
Mother waits, day after day, for meals that never come,
Her heart broken, standing at the door, waiting in the fading light.

Her nine children, a son-in-law, and a cherished grandchild,
All lost in the distant wilds, by the cold river.
In the mountains of Trường Sơn or the Thạch Hãn River,
Where the evening sun paints the river with a deep red hue?

Her nine children, never to return,
The black ribbons, Mother’s eyes blurred with tears.
Oh, Mother’s shadow, casting a bend across the country,
Forever green, as the song of Vietnam's Mother echoes on!

Mother’s name: NGUYỄN THỊ THỨ - Quảng Nam!!!

Vọng Thanh

FAREWELL
An Giang Bùi
(On July 27th, Dedicated to the Heroic Mothers of Vietnam)

The day I bid farewell to my husband, my daughter was with me,
She held her child close as we said our tearful goodbyes.
For nine long years, I worked alone, plowing the fields,
Raising my child, day by day, month by month.

The army returned, and I took my child to meet them,
We saw the people laughing, talking, full of joy.
The sun began to set, casting a golden glow,
Mother told me, "Wait a little longer..."

The day I sent him off, I didn't carry the baby,
I knew he wanted to, but I hadn't yet made him proud.
My eyes swollen, I hugged him tight by the waist,
My thin arms, like a bamboo branch by the door.

Then came the months, with me and my child waiting,
Hoping for his return, minute by minute.
So much longing weighed heavily on my shoulders,
And my back bent a little more with each passing day.

The summers passed, and winter's cold arrived,
My child and I waited for letters from him.
Counting the days on my fingers, I said, "It's been ten years,
And he has never come home for the New Year."

This winter, it seems to be even colder,
In the deep forest, I wonder if you're warm?
On the first morning of the year, I was stunned,
A small note told me he was no more.

He gave his life so that spring could bloom,
So that children could run joyfully to school,
So that lovers could reunite,
So that laughter would no longer be interrupted.

Years passed, and I remained silent,
But I couldn't help but feel for my daughter-in-law.
When it was time to send my daughter off to her new home,
I smiled and called her my daughter...

As she left, she turned back,
"I will come back to visit you, Mother."

RETURNING TO MOTHER
(A poem honoring the fallen heroes and the heroic mothers of Vietnam)

Comrade, oh, one cold winter afternoon,
Suddenly torn apart, as war’s cruel hand did.
The cigarette burnt halfway on the hill’s crest,
As purple myrtle flowers stained the sky with their sorrow.

Comrade, oh, the old gunfire is now silent,
What battlefield now stands abandoned and still?
Who called out, tearing the evening sky apart,
Swallowing the pain, searching for traces of that day?

Comrade, oh, where are you now? Please, rise,
Stand up, for your comrades have come to visit.
On the day you left, your eyes were like a full moon,
With the fragrance of grapefruit flowers still lingering in the air.

Comrade, oh, what divides life from death,
In the deep, ancient forest, in a desolate place.
Will we hear the faint sound of a hammock swaying?
Will we see a smile blooming for the briefest moment?

Comrade, oh, come back to mother,
Your back is bent, your eyes dimmed, my dear.
Your bones rest in the soil, still a part of this world,
And mother waits, her life now a shadow of memories.

Comrade, oh, tip your hat in sorrow and respect,
Welcome him home with bittersweet pride.
Mother trembles, her heart breaking with grief,
Her child, at last, returns… back to mother!

Poem by Trịnh Thanh Hằng

LULLABY FOR THE SOUL OF THE MARTYR
Poem by Phan Huy Huy Hùng

Mother Vietnam sings the lullaby for the martyrs
The dawn of the night
Light leads the way for Võ Thị Sáu
The enemy flees down the same path, with nowhere to hide
Mother sings to her child through tears, laughter...

In their twenties, immortal
The red flag with the yellow star shining brightly on their lips
The bullet of execution
The fatal shot
The martyrs
Forever
Live on
In the lullaby!

Mother Vietnam
Gives birth to children
Gentle like yams and sweet potatoes
Eyes that bend the barrel of a rifle
Smiles full of trust
The soul of the martyr soars with the shape of the Fatherland
Pulling life back to happiness and abundance...

The night
Holds the sweet lullaby
Mother embraces her child with memories in her arms
The dutiful children
Still tending the fields
Still paving the long road to the future!

The night
Words of the lullaby bury the dark years
Lighting up dreams
The mother of the martyr is forever new
Like the land and sky of Vietnam, a unique homeland...

The lullaby of the martyr's mother echoes
Like the waves of the East Sea
Like the mountains and forests with their chorus
Like Võ Thị Sáu standing proudly before the enemy's guns
Like the silhouette of Vietnam
The lullaby will echo for a thousand years!

THE HEROIC MOTHER

On the 20th day of the Lunar New Year, the news arrived,
Ngọc Đông* bravely sacrificed himself on the battlefield.
Mother Nga* cried out in deep sorrow!
She followed the trail of bombs, searching through the long nights for her son.

When Father died, Mother withered away,
He sacrificed for the nation, so that we could be free.
The independence of the nation must be fought for,
Father joined the resistance to defeat the enemy.

But fate is cruel, what could we do?
Father fell in battle, his life taken too soon!
Now, her son must march on,
Farewell to comrades, following the footsteps of heroes.

Mother Nga was wrapping sticky rice cakes,
Sending supplies to the soldiers to celebrate their victory.
Oh, heaven! Do you hear her plea?
The enemy had just burned and destroyed everything!

Pity for Mother and her children,
Without a home, suffering, the family wasted away!
But then came the Tet Offensive,
And warrior Ngọc Nghĩa* marched off again.

With a heart devoted to the country,
He risked his life, his name etched in golden history.
Mother’s life turned a page,
Determined to bring honor to her family.

The enemy’s guns thundered loudly,
But Mother stood firm, refusing to surrender.
Beaten and battered day by day,
The more she hurt, the more her fury and defiance grew!

Raising the spirits of her children and grandchildren,
She urged them on to fight for the land waiting.
On the day of liberation, Mother shouted loud,
Our country is united, no more fear.

Lighting incense, she prayed to Buddha and the heavens,
For the martyrs to rest peacefully in the sky.
Returning to Vietnam,
To serve the people, strengthening the nation.

Poem by Nguyên Đức

THE SECOND MOTHER
Poem by Nguyễn Ruyến

Nine times, she bore a child,
Nine times, she sent him to save the country.
Nine times, she heard the news of his fall,
And nine times, she held back her tears.

Now, Mother Thứ has passed away,
The statue of her stands with grace.
Her form, like Âu Cơ, embodies the soul of Vietnam,
A hero with kindness, shining through like a thousand flowers.

In Ninh Bình, 2018
Written by NGUYỄN RUYẾN.

REST ASSURED, MOTHER
Poem by Hương Mrs -Le

This July, you must miss me so much, don’t you, mother?
Your beloved son, the one you cherished most in life.
You light an incense before the altar, silently,
The smoke curls around the face of a young man, just twenty.

Over forty years have passed, but there are no more tears to shed.
The picture remains as youthful as the day I enlisted.
Only just starting college, still so uncertain,
Friends in class still distant, not yet close.

But suddenly, I had to leave, to answer the call
For the country needed me to stand in its defense.

At eighteen, when life was at its brightest,
When I hadn’t yet held anyone’s hand, not yet known love’s promises.

Hadn’t yet kissed anyone, still dreaming of the future,
Only knowing the burning desire to fight for the country.

Then one day, in the heart of a brutal battlefield,
I left, never to return, my dear mother.

Your beloved son, the one you loved most in life,
Couldn’t repay the debt of father’s sacrifices and your love.

The earth, mother, holds me in its silent embrace,
We must sacrifice so that our country may live on.

This morning at the Truong Son cemetery,
The nation still stands by me, offering incense in remembrance.
Our comrades remain beside me, still full of affection,
And sing the military song, forever youthful at twenty.

The sky in Quang Tri this morning is bright and clear,
Mother, oh mother, please don’t cry anymore.
I still return to visit you, don’t close the door,
Let me hold you, mother, still waiting for me...

Saigon, July 25, 2017

Vietnamese Heroic Mother

The eldest grabs a quick bite.
Delicious greens that mother just bought,
Today she made crab soup for all of us.
All the children are gathered, let’s eat and compete!

Now, no loud noises, please.
The third one is quietly eating his portion.
Why does the fourth one look upset?
Did you eat another green chili again?

The fifth keeps scooping more,
Still greedy, just like before.
The sixth slowly eats spoon by spoon,
Then complains, 'Oh no, there’s no more rice.'

The seventh and eighth are sulking,
Jealous of each other, always wanting to be first.
Number nine, why are you just standing there, smiling?
There are so many of us, try to stop laughing and just eat.

As she speaks, mother’s tears fall.
The meal she made is missing someone.
Staring into the brown eyes,
Loss is deeply etched into her soul.

Nine children, each one feeling lonely,
Every piece of bad news cuts deeper into the heart.
When people ask, 'Are you sad?'
All the brothers are gone and never coming back.

Every night, mother falls into a deep sleep,
Wondering when her ungrateful children will return.
She takes off her hat, wanting to see them.
Her children are so handsome, so perfect.

But they all show coldness,
Appearing briefly and then drifting away.
Leaving her eyes blurred with tears,
Her hands holding the photo, filled with sorrow.

Every night, she waits up late,
Listening for the knock of her beloved children.
Only to be disappointed once more.
None of the brothers are coming back.

Time passes, her hair fades to grey,
But that pain, it never fades away.

Mother Alone

July has come again, the sky pours down with rain.
Where have my children gone, why don’t they return to me?
July rains, my heart aches with pain,
My children are not here, and I'm left alone with a meal for one.

Oh, July, why does the rain keep falling?
Why does my heart quietly ache and mourn?
My husband died in battle when the outpost was broken.
One by one, I sent my children away.

As I saw them off, I cried, tears wetting my cheeks.
Holding my husband's photo, I whispered softly,
'You follow the same path as your father,
The road of struggle, the red flag waving high.'

I gave birth to you all, raised you with love,
Hoping you would be my support in old age.
As the lights fade in the evening, I sit by the door,
Waiting, but who am I waiting for now?

You sacrificed your lives in the long and hard battles.
I never asked for a grand monument.
I gave my life for the revolution,
Hoping this world would shine brighter and better.

The Flame in the Night

The night falls quietly, with a sadness so deep, my mother lights
A red candle, its glow filling the air.
My nine children are restless in their sleep,
Longing to return to their mother, their hearts full of care!

Mother sits and gazes at the flickering light,
The golden flame reminds her of the love she holds dear.
Has she lit it too many times tonight,
Calling out to her children, longing for them to be near?

For so long, the village roads have been still,
Mother watches, waiting for her sons to return.
In the war, who could predict the cost of this ill?
Though she knows the truth, she dreams of a reunion in turn.

Year after year, she waits, longing for their voices,
The night is silent, not a sound to be heard.
One by one, her children’s lives were sacrificed,
Giving their all for the country—will they ever return?

Choking with emotion, she calls out their names,
Her eyes clouded with memories of their bloodshed.
She cries, calling and calling through the endless night,
Lonely, her heart aches as the walls echo her grief instead.

Why is life so full of sorrow and pain?
Her nine children are gone, never to come back again.
Her heart torn with an ache that will not cease,
She grieves for her country, for her children, for peace.

Mother sits, gazing at the photographs of her sons,
Her hands trembling as she slowly flips through the memories.
The night continues to pass in silence, as it’s done,
Suppressing the pain, the sorrow, the unspoken pleas.

The candle has almost burned out now,
Just like the lonely figure of the mother, so frail.
Tears streak down her face as she wonders how,
Each flickering flame only deepens her sorrowful tale!