Top 8 Best Poems about Sơn Tây

Visiting the ancient village of Đường Lâm
A rustic land of brown earth and honeycomb stones
Ah! Upon the curved roof of the communal house
Time has cloaked moss over the essence of humanity
The village gate stands there to play
Then carries the old and worn of life upon it
Clattering tales unnamed
Rise and fall, the essence of life now
Green tea water sweetens poetic verses
Fragrant peanut candy crackles in the mouth
Sun-dried bamboo shoots bask in the sun
Heavy-hearted, embracing the village's scent, the taste of soy sauce
Cool and refreshing, harboring affection
In the clear well, wind and mist dissolve the oil
For years, the duối trees stand guard
Temple of Ngô dyed the green history
From Mía Pagoda, serene
A white heron ascends, drawing a picture in the clouds
Phùng Hưng's communal house still remains
Leaving a legacy for this land of two kings
Hearing the echoing temple bells
Đường Lâm recounts its own tales of sun and rain…

Author Lê Minh Hải, from Phú Thọ, composed this poem during a visit to Đường Lâm on March 28, 2017. The poem was published in Văn Nghệ newspaper issue 14 (2981) on April 8, 2017.

The road to Sơn Tây
The sky's blue amidst the trees
Distant mountains stand before
The riverbank high with fluffy clouds...

The road to Sơn Tây
The rice fields in harvest time
Buffaloes plow the fields ahead
Birds chirp in the old garden...

The road to Sơn Tây
The sun leans on the evening lilies
Horses pause at the village entrance
The thin eatery smells of sticky rice...

The road to Sơn Tây
The Red River sings with waves
The green army uniforms of the foe
Ba Vì echoes with clouds at its feet...

The road to Sơn Tây
Years weave the roots of trees
The ancient stone gate cracked
The moat reflects a full shadow...

The road to Sơn Tây
A rendezvous at the Wind Pier
The white flowers ripple along the bank
Oh, a thousand butterflies take flight!...

The road to Sơn Tây...

Source: Tô Hà, The City with Its Own House (poetry), New Works Publisher, 1988

Heading to Sơn Tây on a rainy day
The fragrant grass fields dot the skinny streets
The sound of wooden clogs echoes along the old stone walls
Where Tản Đà used to drink until intoxicated

Horse-drawn carriages sway under the thin afternoon sun
The pioneers have returned to the deserted land
The verses still carry the scent of solitary smoke
Romance still reminisces of youthful days

Lips moist from the dewy night, moonlight shadows on leaves
Seeking shelter under the tent, longing for a cluster of reeds
The Tích Giang River winds through the valley
The old pier, a boat tethered, waves embracing me

Girls no longer wear torn skirts
Raising their faces to gaze into deep black eyes
The smile of a wanderer in white clouds
Far into Đường Lâm, deep into Chùa Thầy

Strangers gather, heads huddled over cups
Letting melancholy weave its threads
Letting the soul wander in the midnight mist
I head to Sơn Tây, fresh as Ba Vì.

Ngân Vịnh

15-1-1995
Source: Ordinary Days of Passion (poetry), Ngân Vịnh, New Writers Publisher, 1996

Rose walls bloom behind sparse jujube trees
Horse carriages roll on white stone roads
The clouds are fluffy like in days of yore
Slowly returning under the rice-colored sky

The alleys lead to countless winding paths
The clear clatter faintly fades into the distance
The space retains a faint fragrance
Making the pure hills intoxicate the soul

The Tích Giang River flows like a trail of love
Winding through the soul of the small town
The mountains whisper to each other amidst old tiles
Our hearts also tremble within

A lost affection thought forgotten for years
Seems like Sơn Tây just handed it back
The heart suddenly yearns for a new path to love
To forget the countless hardships

Once again, eager to serve a passionate love
That has ignited a joyful flame.

Anh Chi

In Sơn Town, you ran back from the enemy
I departed from the battlefield
Separated by countless days from Bất Bạt village
Under the green evening, Ba Vì's shadow fades

Your forehead adorned with the sky of homeland
Your eyes gently guide the sorrows of the Western Horizon
I miss the white clouds of Đoài land dearly
Do you ever miss and yearn for them?

From the autumn's wilderness against the enemy's shadows
Desolation resumes, connecting desolation
The rocky land sheds many tears
Do you ever shed tears of sorrow?

My mother, have you seen her anywhere?
Elderly corpses engulf the fields
I remember a little child
So many young bodies drifted down the river

The eyes of Sơn Tây's people
Melancholic, wandering in the evening
Sorrow from distant, wise lands
I send my longing and love

Carry it for me, please
Upon my return to the homeland
A song dripping with tears

When will I return to Bương Cấn fields?
Back to Sài Sơn mountains to see the golden rice
The Đáy River slowly flows through Phủ Quốc
The kite flute resounds sharply in the moonlit night

When will I meet you again?
Surely it's peaceful, amidst the singing
The hues of war seasons have faded
Do you ever remember me?

Quang Dũng

O clouds of Ba Vì, calling for a thousand ages to fly
O ancient stone-walled city guiding back to the ancient twilight...

I entered Sơn Tây through ancient walls stained with blood, through the red rolled plains
the rustic land of Đoài with its black-toothed maidens smiling coyly
they glanced at me with the deep sky's depth of vision
and with the curves behind their arched eyes

Silk garments softly woven in my eyes, velvet scarves tenderly bound me with threads of emotion
those ancient maidens, I lived in their eighteen-year-old era
enthralled by cherry blossom bridges, winding streams, and wind-kissed ponds
wandering through centuries to whimsically don a short dress one evening
Tích Giang gently strokes the dawn of the ancient city
smirking with earthly laughter

I ride on white clouds, drifting along the Red River
wandering with the rustic souls of the villages
kites tilting the romantic sky's vault
a sky of freedom urging horses to neigh the surging desires within
old hearts leading young hearts stumbling on the path of replication
connecting this life to the next, the breeze is sweet in Sơn Tây

Look, clouds lead me to the Non Tản hills, across the Đà River, I return to Thanh Thuỷ
the river of a thousand ages currently in its prime
long stretches lying leisurely sleeping deeply after the exhausting flood season
sweet corn and sugarcane emit misty smoke
the river bustling with the days when village maidens go to the riverbank to wash their delicate undergarments
washing away smiles
washing away the sweetness, washing away the abundance
those maidens wash me, drench me in the ancient village evening
in the Ba Vì folklore, in the present denim, in the steaming hair

I pass through Sơn Tây, not yet through all the white cloud evenings
the ong stone lying weathered by time
there's a sky vault of black-toothed maidens
smirking
mouths

Mộc Châu, 31/8/2010

Trần Quang Quý

Source: The Free Color of the Land, Publishers Association, 2012

Remembering Nguyễn Lương Ngọc

The people of Sơn Tây love lotus flowers even in their sleep
In their dreams, they dream of lotus flowers
In their dreams, they sing lullabies to lotus flowers
Don't ask why
The flowers wake up, blooming in another life!

Slowly from Thanh Thuỷ to Bất Bạt
Eyes gazing upon the ancient city of Sơn Tây
Every evening by the banks of the Hanoi dike
The people of Sơn Tây look up to watch the clouds...

The land of Đoài fragrant with fruits for Hà Thành
The people of Sơn Tây have many autumns
'We don't have much time left' -
the people of Sơn Tây say so
The Tản mountains and the Đà River accumulate time!

27-11-2001

Trương Thiếu Huyền

The ancient citadel, moon rising over the canopy of leaves
Autumn breath fills the path to Ba Vì
The season of youthful flowers in the town square
Clings to the feet of those who walk.

Source: Ngô Quân Miện, Four-stringed Instrument (quatrain poetry), Publishing House of the Writers' Association, 2007