Top 10 Best Poems by the Poet Tô Thuỳ Yên

With rifles raised, helmets off, the unit halts for the afternoon
Spending the afternoon drinking, though little food, plenty of wine
Here, at the river crossroads, a village by the water's edge
Boats dock near the table's feet
The rain has just stopped, the land still damp
Water lilies drift lazily, clouds wandering aimlessly
Old friends meet without appointments
Meeting is unexpected, but joyous
I offer a few lines of poetry to a friend
Though I’ve long abandoned literature
Honestly, I can't recall your name
But your face seems familiar
It doesn’t matter, let’s drink and get drunk
A name means nothing here...
Only true heroes gather here
Life and death mean nothing, they don’t burden the soul
No one speaks of their past
Some have families, but live as if single
Your casual inquiry about my life
My military career makes me smile:
In a few months, I’ll be a lieutenant
But maybe tomorrow that won’t matter...
We’re all still young, faces as bright
Like the evening sun after the rain
The cheers and clinking of glasses resound
Even the mosquitoes seem to be swept away.

In the deep green of the cajeput forest
The river has no bank, and the sky has no end
In the past, people searched for gold and cleared the land
Leaving behind only the spirits of the lost
Today, I meet my friends here
The land isn’t tilled, no gold is sought...
You advise me: don't ask difficult questions
It will spoil the mood, disturb the joy
I pour a last drop of wine for us
To remember the last remnants of youth
We’ll soon depart, but here’s to meeting again
Perhaps in the afterlife, we’ll meet to drink once more.

Source: Tô Thùy Yên, Selected Poems, Minnesota, 1995

Long ago, there was a person who suddenly fell into a deep slumber
In their dream, something strange happened
That very night, they left their home, never to return
The cliffside winds smooth the rock faces
Gazing at the stars without fear
Who left the bamboo staff on the road?
The dog howls in the dark
The riverbank seems deserted
The sound of an illusory boat calling
The endless shore covered in trembling leaves
A wandering spirit forever lost
The ominous chant echoes, not yet broken
They step forward, seeking fate, hidden in shadows
The fire of confusion spreads, panic rising
The bird soars, flying into the mist
A time of history casts its spell on you
To live in endless, weary solitude...
The foolish spirit, wasted and cast aside
The worn clothes of a life now in tatters
Fragments of a soul, memories lost and scattered
The earth's centuries-long journey, forever lost
Where is the joy in gathering tonight?
Worldly blankets and dreams without masters
The homeland forgotten, longing for a lost scent?
On this side, there must be another
And another side beyond that...
How far will we go before we rest?
But then again, thinking too much changes nothing
The world is full of mistakes
You stand, silently bearing witness
Without purpose in song and dance
Living life without deeper intention
In a crowd, yet in an endless void
Will tears lose their salt over time?
New bamboo shoots, growing amidst hardship
The toxic waters and sacred forests, hard to endure.

3-2005

Source: Văn Magazine, issue 101-102, May & June 2005

For Huỳnh Diệu Bích

Though a hundred years have passed, there's no regret...

One day, she climbs the mountain's peak
Searching for the prophetic stone...
What will life be like afterward?
She is resigned, her heart set on her path.

The stones, none of them speak to her...
She walks on, her feet bruised and sore
Hearing the monkey’s mournful cry
Missing the last chance to leave the mountain behind.

One day, she enters the deep, dark forest
Picking fruits to dye her sorrowful heart
Seeing the trees and grasses intertwined
Huddling together, sharing their fate.

The phoenix and peacock fly, but where do they go?
What is their journey, why do they not call for others?
If the flowers knew they would fall today
Perhaps they'd still find joy in blooming this morning.

One day, she crosses the bridge of fate
Rain or shine, it matters not...
The wild herbs have always grown
And never forgotten the sacred Kinh Thi fields.

The door opens wrong, and destiny becomes unclear...
Have the three thousand worlds found a home?
Over time, the body becomes fragile like the wind
And she sees herself as someone unrecognizable...

One day, she reaches the city of blossoming flowers
With her song filling the air, wealth at her feet
The sky dances, the sea churns...
Once, she tried to leave everything behind.

At midnight, the rooster crows, the moon is dim
Who doubts the reversal of fate on this side?
The dog howls in the distance
And someone stands at the edge of the earth, looking to the horizon.

One day, she reaches an endless shore
Watching the river change its course, mountains shift their forms
Clouds drift like final goodbyes...
She stands, fading like the last embers of incense.

Lighting incense for a futile cause
Lighting incense for humanity, filled with longing
The East Sea has carried sand for a day...
Fading, dreaming of a futile life, like a sandcastle.

July 1998

Source: Tô Thùy Yên, A Light of Gratitude, An Tiêm Publishing, Houston, 2004

Lighting offerings to the universe, all in vain
Lighting offerings to humanity, with enduring affection

Staying awake to finish the poem
Tomorrow morning, I'll leave
Leaving a token on the door as a gift.

Source: Tô Thùy Yên, Lighting the Offering, An Tiêm Publishing, Houston, 2004

You leave for the mountains, leave for the sea...
Running away? Searching? The urge to go
Later, lying by the grassy shore
It’s enough for me to know you’ve gone
May you flourish when you step outside
The lanterns of fate weave their uncertain paths
With will, the mind can overcome anything
The road opens like the hands stretched wide
Crossing the boundaries of doubt
Looking at flowers, seeing them as flowers...
The soul trembles, the scream tears through
Falling into time, no matter what I do
Can't escape, can't find
Keep walking, keep taking...
One fleeting life, is it enough
To embrace a passion that never dies?
The world spins faster every day
Life isn’t real, who knows the body’s truth?
Over time, youth fades, telling oneself
To close my eyes and see afar, yet everything seems near
The heart grows heavy with the scent of the past
Living is already a decay of the self
You hear the waves of the far seas breaking
Their remnants cast onto the shore in bewilderment
Is it strange, or am I the one who feels strange?
It’s late, perhaps it’s time to rest
The divine has already failed once
I stop, so the divine may rest
The things I wanted to escape begin to fade
The things I sought to find blur away
With age, I hope my heart is lighter
To find a way back to myself
You remember the old plum tree by the gate
Will it bloom this spring again?
So deeply felt, so bittersweet
Is there any love that doesn’t tear the flesh?
You have passed through the mountains, through the sea
What will you meet other than the mountains and the sea?
Or is it still that indifferent hand
Gently causing pain to the very core of me?

4-2005

Source: Văn Magazine, issue 101-102, May & June 2005

The stars are separated, and the souls are

stripped from their skins
(William Blake)

Because everything is impermanent
Therefore everything is eternal

The sky never stays sunny, nor does it always rain
At some point, you’ll grow tired of the stranger you are
The stories you hear for the first time
Feel as though you’ve heard them all before
Perhaps you’ve squandered your journey’s chance
Uncountable dreams left unfulfilled
Now your heart and mind are worn thin
Without excitement, only waiting for an ambush
The wind turns pages of books in haste
Scattering fragments of forgotten dreams
The taste of life cannot be held

One evening, running your fingers through your hair
Feeling the pain of a weary hand
Past a certain age
You live only to stay alive
Each day, memories fade, nearing their end
Where is that reckless young man
Who once threw himself into impossible odds?
His death unnoticed, sorrowful indeed!
Not just once did you fall
The leaves scattered with a harsh command
Haven’t you witnessed this too?
Faltering thoughts, lost halfway through the journey
Unable to grasp the farthest reaches

Yet, you will still love until the last tear falls
The dim lights of the study room
The restless spirits that can’t find peace
And still, you will love until the last tear falls
The scattered embers of travelers
Futile, as their written words dissolve
Does the earth not feel the pain?
How can the heavens remain exhausted
Sadness deep in the bones
And you, unable to find peace
What can meaning accomplish in such a chaotic mind?
Literature, too, will eventually let you down

Look into your own fate
As if passing judgment on a painful trial, drawing blood from stone
Writing, writing as though punishing yourself for the excesses
About a mythical tale forever decayed
Bowing your head, choking on volcanic ashes
Boiling with plans
Spitting disgust at the injustice of the world
Clearly, it all means nothing
Why not simply forget it?
You’ve probably made a mistake during your time here
Oh, every classic is but a stone memorial
Where humankind, lost, finds no peace

The Buddha, with a thousand hands...
And you, bound by a hundred souls
Ripping apart, unable to return to your roots
Who can face the desolation and stay silent?
The door to wisdom will not open to wandering singers
The melody of dreams only leaves silence
Today, the winds of sand return people to an ancient town
Standing idly, seeing no familiar faces
Subconsciously murmuring:
Why can’t people be kinder to one another?
You will still love until the last tear falls
A grand but incomplete vision slowly fades away.

4.2004

Source: Tô Thùy Yên, Thắp tạ, An Tiêm Publishing, Houston, 2004

The gods of the night have likely fallen asleep
Why does the beggar still walk?
Whispering ancient, sorrowful words
Wandering deeper into the inner village?
Not yet full from begging
Condemned to suffer, resigned to fate
Only hoping that others won't turn him away
Now, the world is quiet, hidden in the dead of night
Is there a door left for me to knock upon?
The dogs bark as they follow
Suspicious, every face unfamiliar
The wind stirs the trees, endlessly tangled
Winter seems to have arrived early
The heavens still show no mercy
Last night, my old friend passed away, frozen cold
We rushed to help, but it was hopeless
How could warmth reach a body already gone?
When the body is not ready to burn, how can the fire spread?
Such unpredictable weather
We must try to keep ourselves warm
People gradually leave one by one
Dreams, please stay a little longer for me
The wind blows like it always does
Plotting changes in the course of time
The world rushes past, leaving behind wandering souls
The old place, forever mourning lost lives
The moon shines, silent and still...
Once, dust became bones and blood
Reincarnated, still bearing the pain of bones and blood
The invaders triumphed in spring
The land cursed, haunted houses uninhabitable
I cast aside history, running for myself
Luckily, there’s still a shadow that keeps me company
Every night, I sweep dreams to my resting place
Gods do not heed my cries, they remain invisible
Leaving me to wander freely, doing as I please
The wind still blows, unyielding
The trees, exhausted, cannot rest
Old people feel as if they’ve been gone a long time
Returning to see only strange faces
Not recognizing anything
I laugh and cry, singing madly
Remembering here, forgetting there
Recognizing good and evil but never halting
Life passes, what remains in the murk?
Sometimes light-hearted as youthful poetry
Other times, weighed down like a deity
Am I living a distorted version of myself?
Endlessly drifting in this warped existence
Shall I forever bear the beggar's fate, the cries of sorrow?
In this world of a hundred years, restless hearts listen in vain.

5-2005

Source: Tạp chí Văn, issue 109-110, January & February 2006

The Tam Giang Lagoon is now dry
(Folk poem)

1.
The helicopter flies over the water
Like a fleeting dream
The Tam Giang Lagoon, the Tam Giang Lagoon
The shore is chaotic, the river vast
The sand lies still, the water flows tirelessly
Looking down, pitying the lost souls
The sky and water are endless, fragile bodies
The Tam Giang Lagoon, the Tam Giang Lagoon
Remembering the ancient sorrowful folk song
The afternoon is crisp, the sun cracks open
The air smells of water, trees, and rotting straw
All fragrant with life’s fervor
The wind howls, brushing our faces
The wind carries sorrow, leaving us numb

We see boats gathering
Like children frightened by ghosts
We see the trees bending in despair
Like the anxiety of old age
We see the dikes struggling against the water
Like efforts failing against fate
We see houses with roofs blown off
Like the earth itself crying out
Why did you come here?
Oh you, the enemy soldier, sick and starving
Spitting out curses between the North and South
Why did I come here?
My heart aches, my body is weary
Under the gaze of the enemy soldier

Even if you shoot me down
Like a scream
Ripping through the void
It would be in vain
Even if you fall
Because bombs and bullets don’t forgive
The body will be left uncollected
Nothing worth noting
In the end, when you and I reflect
We both ask ourselves
Who truly sacrificed
For the country of Vietnam – a single country...?

Everything you do
You think it’s so powerful
Everything I do
I find it insignificant
So you are frantic, while I am calm
When doing the same things

I wonder why
(But you, do you ever wonder?)
And I answer myself
(Do you ever answer yourself?)
We are like the propellers of a plane
We must keep spinning
Only because it must spin
I pity my weakness
I pity your foolishness
So we both accept the fate of swirling
We both get lost in History’s road
We both chase after the same ill-fated whore

In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon, the sounds of battle are lively
In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon, a silent wave of sympathy.

2.
In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon
I suddenly remember you
Endlessly

Now the shopping mall is about to close
The janitor sweeps the hallway
The glass cabinets are dark
Now the city suddenly bursts into life
Then dims to rest early
(Saigon extends curfew
Saigon no longer has nights)
Now it might be sunny
You leave the library for a stroll
Under the peaceful canopy of trees
Along the stream of jade-colored sky

Thinking about the future exams pushing forward
The high-rise building’s golden glow at night
The book open at midnight
Thinking of the mother deep in thought, the mischievous younger sibling
Thinking of the ordinary things
That every girl thinks of
Then thinking of you, thinking of you
In a natural and painful way
Now it might be raining
You take shelter under the awning
Watching water bubbles race along the pavement
Like flowers rushing to bloom
Then maybe you enter a familiar cafe
Where we used to meet
Letting your mind float in the busy noise
Among the lonely tables and chairs

Thinking of you, thinking of you
The thoughts are overwhelming
Like tears that fall unbidden
Thinking of something so important
That you don’t fully understand
Thinking of something so important
That you are afraid to think about
Now the city bursts into life

In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon
I suddenly remember you
Endlessly

I love you, love the nostalgia of twenty
Radiating all the dreams of youth
Like bright suns falling along the uphill road
Every morning, noon, evening, and night
I love you, love the nostalgia of twenty
Seeing it as a moment of departure
In the vast world, lost and unheard
I love you, love the nostalgia of twenty
Seeing in the heart of life blooming alone
A single plum branch
Seeing love as a fading opportunity
To tear oneself away from nightmares
That a man dreams of through youth

Oh love, the glorious proof of failure!

3.
In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon
You look at the swift current
Flowing past the shores littered with silence
Thinking about the unfinished projects you abandoned
Thinking about the life lost on a confused path
Thinking about the vanished youth
Leaving behind bitter memories
Thinking about the hidden garden of trees
The abandoned house where the wind howls
The old age fading into useless peace
Like the reeds shaking over the river’s surface
Alongside death
Death, slow like the withering of time
Frustrating oneself
The wind blows eternally, bringing change
For trees and plants to live and die
And you fear hearing something beyond your strength
Because you aren’t brave enough to face the despair
Like a mad clown scrambling to survive in a crowded place
With all the cheap roles drawn from ignorance
The wind keeps blowing, the wind keeps blowing
For plants to die, to be reborn
You don’t care

In the afternoon on Tam Giang Lagoon
There’s a mad clown laughing coldly
Making the beasts of history shudder
Suddenly terrified.

6-1972

This poem has been adapted into a song by composer Trần Thiện Thanh.

Source: Tô Thuỳ Yên, Selected Poems, Minesota, 1995

The call of the sea, the whispers of the forest urge
I return to greet the coming spring

I return - a shadow on the vast road
With poems unwritten, my clothes now pale...
Why does my heart feel soft, cloaked in sorrow?
Ten years have passed, even stones seem to mourn

Goodbye to those ten years of stagnant death
In the sacred forest where silence reigns
Ten years, my face darkened, reflecting the stream
I have transformed into an ancient ape

I return through valleys and rivers
The creases on my brow play with the gentle wind
Lost in wonder, I gaze at the old sky and earth
Feeling the scattered dust of time drift away

That's all there is. The sky is mute, the earth still
Life is quiet, the pale green stillness deepens
Ten years, the world seems aged before my eyes
The land fades, it fades...

I return like a bird passing too late
Hastening the winds of the final season
Who stands waiting by the clouds and water?
Centuries of hair turned gray with time

How many desires can one life hold?
Mountains erode, rivers shift and change
History grows silent with fewer echoes
Ten years, who still records these ancient tales?

I return, head bowed, touched by the morning dew
Feeling the weight of heaven and earth within
Grateful for the flowers that bloom in my honor
The world celebrates each lonely moment

Imagine, houses opening their doors
In my village, the stone horses cross the river
People move like fish following the tide
The sound of drums signaling a joyous return

I return like leaves falling to their roots
The warmth of the hearth embracing this night
With a drop of red wine, let it be poured
To dissolve the curses of this tumultuous world

I cry to thank life for its bloodshed
My heart soft as stone beneath my feet
Ten years of storms and rain have passed
The world listens, sorrow lingering from afar

I return like dew on the grass
Gathering sorrow as the world shifts
Even the smallest life, born and gone
What is left for us to regret, my friend?

The small teahouse fills with autumn’s sighs
Ten years, faces familiar yet distant
Water and mountains, separated by thousands of miles
We share a quiet drink, accepting fate’s course

I return like a white thread in the sky
Swaying, carried by the sadness of the dry sun
Who calls out across the empty land?
Ah, the golden stone calls across the mountain

The vow of eternity still weighs heavy
Binding me to the fate of this life
I remember you beyond the limits of longing
Ten years, and still I remain myself

I return like the scattered verses of a lost poem
In a desolate world, forgotten and wide
The old house stands, its roof and walls intact
Spider webs, smoke stains, and the termites gnawing at the foundation

Nothing remains as it once was
Old houses are cold, indifferent to life
The fence leans, the gate falls, and the grass grows thick
Old guests are gone, and new ones are rare...

I return to break the ancient curse
Rise, O stones and wood, rise and speak!
Let us tell the tale of ten years of restless dreams
Once told, may they be done with

This evening, I wander aimlessly
Visiting each tree with its hidden sorrow
Do the pomelo and wild pear still bloom?
After ten years, do the trees remember the ones they lost?

I return like a reckless child
Spending life in the ever-changing tides
Ten years have passed, I am now older
How could my parents bear the weight of this fading time...

I reflect on my failed life
Promised a hundred things, but fulfilled none
Time passes, layers of illusion fade
The silent tears of time cry out without end

I return like the echo of a distant cry
The wild rice blooms on the banks
Even after a thousand years, you stand waiting
Like the sea always waits for the river

I call out to the future behind closed doors
Eyes brimming with joy, deeper than ever
I feel like blood, the flow of love everlasting
As if in a past life, we never truly parted

I return, even if barefoot
To cross the world and reach you
The pain of wind and sand is nothing
As I step through the night beside our old home

The old pomelo tree still remembers its white flowers
The night is not too late, O waning moon!
Old love, like old age, cannot sleep
Each step echoes the sorrow within

I return like a mysterious dream
Searching for joy in the quiet nights
The bright moon leaves a mark on me
For all my life, the memory will never fade

Little one, the joys and sorrows of old
Live on, facing the fading memories
The grasshopper still sings its familiar tune
Along the roadside, its voice as close as ever

I return like the stream flowing quietly
The ten years drift by, fading into haze
Who is still left from my past?
The world seems emptier than before

The dead take me with them into the grave
On quiet nights, no one stands by the pond
Crying for others, I weep for myself
Age takes its toll, year after year

I return like an angry ghost
Seeking time, searching for myself
I gather the fragments of my past
Like forgotten bones, ready to fade away

Sitting here, in the old house of incense
I read the poems of my youth
Someone in my soul stirs with longing
The moon still regrets the carefree days

I return like the golden crane’s longing
Once flying through the world, now gone
Regretting my fleeting life
Unable to fully express my heart

7-1985

Source: Tô Thuỳ Yên, Selected Poems, Minnesota, 1995

Always there was this clamour,
Always there was this fury...
(Saint John Perse)

Trường Sa! Trường Sa! The island sways!

Endless sorrow surrounds, white on all sides,
Soldiers, strange to these waters, out at sea,
In the night, I thought the island might drift away.

The cold northeast winds blow tirelessly,
Ripping my soul apart.
I ask, 'Oh, Vast Lonesome Winds,'
But the Vast Lonesome Winds turn a deaf ear.

Desolate island, not a soul to be found,
Ancient plants, unnamed, grow wild.
Each day it becomes colder, as if to freeze,
While a human body remains still as stone.

Four hundred nautical miles, too far to reach,
My tears laugh at my own self-destruction.
Anger doused, I bow my back, endure,
Life’s path lost, rushing ahead with haste.

Ancient waves weep, the sea mourns,
Is there any limit to this sorrowful plight?
I regret that I have so little to weep,
And thus the vast ocean weeps across the sky.

When winds shift and grow fierce,
The eastern shores erode, while the west replenishes.
Trees are torn from their roots, awaiting their end.
Who in this world chooses their birthplace?

In the cool waters of the bay, shimmering kelp drifts,
Like endless sadness, floating ceaselessly,
Underneath my soul, silent, glistening.

The evening sun wanes, the sea grows faint,
Clouds of birds flutter in a frantic swarm,
Shaking the earth, as if the island is aflame...
And I feel the burn spread throughout my being.

I sit by a savage fire,
Drying my hair and beard, awaiting my evening meal,
Listening to the swaying coconut trees,
Enduring the long pain of life’s harshness.

My young friend, sing loud and true,
Any tune, no matter how wild,
To warm the distant dinner’s flame,
And lift the sorrow from my heavy head.

Who screams within me at midnight,
Like a prisoner under torture?
Ripping apart the silent agony of life,
Sending it on to the clouds, red with grief.

I speak to each star each night,
Revealing my heart’s secrets,
The distant stars shine through the dark sky,
And I feel my own mind grow bright.

Land, do you hear me calling?
Thundering signals bounce back,
Please open the distance between us,
For the lone bird stirs in a restless sleep.

Day breaks with blinding light,
As shining rays dance madly in the wind,
My hair burns red with sorrow,
Cracking like the sound of a youth’s fragile bloom.

Oh, the trees by the shore bend and break,
Roots torn, struggling to exist,
Fighting for life until the end,
Or until the shore’s new dawn is born.

Coral grows, spreading out its branches,
Its memories blossoming too.
Time sets the stones of eternity,
I use it to honor the one who has passed.

3-1974

Source: Tô Thuỳ Yên, Poetry Collection, Minnesota, 1995