Top 10 Most Beautiful Poems About Our Beloved Uncle Ho Chi Minh

To Huu

6-9-1969

For several days, we weep in farewell

Life is filled with tears, the sky with rain...

Today I hurried to visit Uncle Ho

The betel garden is damp, with a few coconut trees!

I followed the familiar gravel path

Reached the stairs, stood looking up

The bell, oh the small bell, still ringing?

The room is quiet, the curtain drawn, the lights off!

Uncle Ho has passed away, has he?

The autumn is beautiful, the sky is clear

The South is winning, dreaming of the day

Uncle Ho returns, we see his smile!

Who will enjoy the sweet, golden grapefruit?

Who will enjoy the fragrance of jasmine flowers?

Where is Uncle's figure now, walking every morning and evening

By the lake, where clouds are reflected in the sky...

Oh, if only my heart could be at ease

My thoughts are heavy with sorrow for life

Uncle Ho, your heart is so vast

Embracing the whole nation, every human soul.

Uncle wasn't sad, he was only in pain

The pain of the people, the pain of the world

Always concerned, like a mother's love

For today and for tomorrow...

Uncle Ho lived like the earth and sky

Loving every blade of grass, every flower

Freedom for every enslaved soul

Milk for the child, silk for the elderly

Uncle remembers the South, his longing for home

The South misses Uncle, longing for a father

Uncle listens to the steps on the front lines

Hearing the joyful sound of distant guns.

Uncle is as happy as the morning light

Happy with each sprouting seed, each ripe fruit

Happy with every song that unites all seas

Carefully nurturing everything, only forgetting himself.

Uncle left us love to carry on

A life of simplicity, no gold or jewels

The thin cloth wraps a soul vast as the universe

More precious than a bronze statue fading along the worn paths.

Oh Uncle Ho, in these twilight years

How deeply we miss you through the centuries!

When you left, you said: 'The country will remain...'

Your burden was heavy, and we dared not cry too much

Uncle has journeyed to join the ancestors

Marx, Lenin, in the world of the virtuous

The red glow shines brighter on our mountains and rivers

Leading us forward together!

We remember the old worn sandals, heavy with gratitude

Love for Uncle makes our hearts purer

We pledge to follow him, to always strive

Strong like the mountains of Truong Son.

Comment:

'Uncle Ho!' is one of the poems dedicated to President Ho Chi Minh by poet To Huu, written during the funeral days of President Ho. The poem not only expresses an indescribable grief but also praises and immortalizes the noble soul of our beloved father. The love, concern, and dedication of Uncle Ho span across the world ('năm châu') and through time ('for today and tomorrow'). To Huu recognized and respectfully praised the deep, vast, and everlasting pain and worry of Uncle Ho. The ideals and life philosophy of our nation's father are expressed in his boundless love for the people of Vietnam and the world, for this generation and the next. His life philosophy is both grand and profound, yet as close and sacred as a mother's concern and the bond of flesh and blood.

Tonight, by the Ô Lâu River

I sit and remember Uncle Ho's beard

Recall his figure under the flag

His rosy cheeks, his hair turned silver

His gentle eyes shining bright like stars

He gazed all the way to Ca Mau, shining brightly

Remembering the bright moonlight in the sky

On Mid-Autumn, Uncle sent his wishes

Remember the day my homeland was in ruins

The flood swept away, but Uncle sent golden rice

Remember when my house turned to ash

Uncle brought the soldiers to protect us

Uncle, how could you not remember?

From afar, does Uncle know my heart?

Each night I feel so restless

Looking at Uncle's picture that I've kept for so long

Gazing into his bright eyes, his beard

His broad forehead, his silver hair

The more I look, the more I feel lost

I kiss his picture, imagining it's him kissing me.

Uncle, though the mountains and rivers are far apart

Your image is always in my heart, never far away

The enemy may try to divide the country

But the South always looks towards Uncle Ho

Towards the red flag, the day the North and South reunite

Tonight, I dream of that joyful day

The streets crowded with welcoming gates

Uncle stands high in the village temple

He smiles warmly, giving wise instructions

Uncle gently strokes his beard

He pats my head, smiling affectionately.

Tonight, the moon is shining again

On Mid-Autumn, I remember Uncle Ho

Outside, I hear the drumbeats

And the children dancing and cheering

Uncle must surely miss us too

The South in sorrow, looking out for him each day.

Thanh Hai

8-1956

You lead me into the world of Uncle Ho's past

The road lined with mango trees sways gently in the sun

A tranquil pond with fish swimming beneath the surface

Sweet oranges and coconut trees offering cool shade

The hibiscus fence, its red flowers blooming

Like the doorway to the home where Uncle returns

With four seasons of lush vegetables growing

Like the days of bamboo shoot porridge...

A simple wooden house, tucked away in a corner of the garden

The wood raw, without the scent of paint

A bamboo bed with a woven mat, a simple blanket

A small wardrobe with a few faded shirts hanging

The typewriter no longer clatters, only memories remain

The cane resting by the desk, waiting to be used

The old sandals, worn at the heels

Uncle still walks through the world wearing them

The lotus grows, standing still, waiting for someone

Shadows of dusk and dawn move around the pond

The light from a distant lamp stays lit

The fragrance of incense still drifts in the air

His umbrella is still here, for the children

A stack of letters opened, Uncle reading them

He must have loved the children dearly

Leaving us with thoughts, as the wind stirs the curtains

The fish, don't be sad

Every evening Uncle calls you

Coconuts, continue to bloom and bear fruit

Uncle's hands still water the pots

Oh, Uncle's heart, so full of love

Love for life, love for every leaf and flower

Always thinking of others, like the river's flow

Like the high mountain that hides its form

In the green forest, indifferent to glory

Uncle hopes we will grow strong

Follow in his footsteps, and keep up with his time

We visit Uncle, and meet Lenin

With a loving forehead and watchful eyes

We sit with Uncle, like shadows beside him

Forever united in spirit, a great soul

Poetry by To Huu

I came from the South to visit Uncle Ho's mausoleum

Through the mist, I saw the endless rows of bamboo

Oh, the green bamboo of Vietnam

Weathering storms, standing tall in formation

Each day, the sun rises over the mausoleum

And there, inside, is another sun, burning bright

Every day, people walk by with love and longing

Leaving a trail of flowers for seventy-nine springs

Uncle rests in peaceful sleep

Under a gentle moonlight, calm and serene

We know the sky is eternally blue

But still, my heart aches with the loss

Tomorrow, when I return to the South, my tears will fall

I wish to be a bird, singing around Uncle's mausoleum

I wish to be a flower, spreading fragrance in the air

I wish to be a bamboo tree, rooted in loyalty

4-1976

Note:

In 1976, after the victory in the American war and the country's reunification, Uncle Ho's mausoleum was newly completed. Vien Phuong visited the North and paid his respects at Uncle Ho's mausoleum. This poem was written during that time and published in the poetry collection 'Như mây mùa xuân' in 1978.

The poem was later adapted into a song by composer Hoang Hiep.

Source: Vietnamese Poetry 1945 – 1985, Educational Publishing House, Hanoi, 1987

I

The rain pours down as we visit Uncle Ho, the people wait, soaked
We know Uncle Ho feels for us, and he wouldn’t want us to suffer

The heart of humanity has stopped
The earth, the trees, everything seems unreal
Even the colors before my eyes feel fake
Oh, if only the pain of loss could be unreal too

I shut the door to my room, alone with Uncle Ho
I don’t want to share my grief with anyone just yet
Everything around me, within me, feels different
Can it be true that Uncle Ho is no longer here?
The sunlight still dances through the trees as if nothing has changed

The long-tailed bird that Uncle Ho protected flies by the gate
The milk fruit tree by the house spreads its lush branches
The tilapia fish rise to the surface, remembering the feeding time
I stand on the familiar street, waiting for Uncle to return

Today, the sky over our garden stands grand and majestic
The hibiscus flowers bloom by the pond
The breeze stirs the branches of the banyan tree, seeking the sun
Lenin awaits on the desk, waiting for Uncle to return

Uncle, look at the rice fields, they are so beautiful this season
The storm has passed, slowing and finally fading away
The beer lines have shortened, and our comrades continue to strive
Last night, 140 enemy posts in the South were defeated
I gather the news and wait for a word from Uncle, a guiding light
Just as I’ve always done before
Uncle, please return after your absence
Strong and healthy, shining under the sunlight in the orange orchard

II

Tonight, millions of us line up to visit Uncle Ho’s resting place
How can we ease this overwhelming sorrow?

We walk for those who are absent
For those who were never born, and for those who have passed away

Vietnam’s heart is aching, its soul mourning
The autumn sky weeps like tears from heaven

We follow the footsteps of those who went before us
The path of the Hùng Kings, from the beginning of our nation to today

Let the people of Tây Nguyên sound their drums of sorrow
The waters of the Mekong River welcome Uncle’s return

The women of Vĩnh Linh, through fire and ice
Dream of Uncle Ho visiting them in their hardships

The old man from Pác Bó still recalls their first meeting in spring
The soldiers on Cồn Cỏ, hearing Uncle’s call, bringing the land closer

Millions of rivers flow toward the vast sea
Uncle lies here, remembering every one of us

III

Uncle Ho often left behind a plate of chicken and ate the sour fruit from Nghệ
He moved quietly, avoiding loud words, walking softly through the garden
His heart bore the pain of all the people, across the farthest corners of the earth
Being near him, the air felt lighter

When determined, unyielding, strong
He burned through the mountains, defeated the Americans with unwavering courage

The skies and seas softened when meeting children
The thunder quieted for the sun to warm the land

Uncle Ho never called a battle “beautiful” because of its toll
I’ve erased the word “beautiful” from my mind, understanding his view
His love for the enemy was like steel
But his compassion embraced all souls

Even at seventy-nine, Uncle still played football
The ashtray that once burned with heat is now cold on his desk
Every morning, Uncle trained his legs like he did when climbing quiet mountains
We know his resolve to live for the South

We know Uncle’s determination to live for Vietnam and the world
His gray hair bore the weight of a thousand worries for his homeland
The small house, where he toiled through sleepless nights
His heart never rested in its quest to unite people far and wide

IV

Oh, Uncle’s heart is vast in his Will
The humble rice and cassava were his simple fare
The whole nation weeps for the one who loved us most
The one loved by all, above all

He sacrificed for the country
When he passed, only his worn-out shoes remained

The light of his legacy will never fade
It transcends death and continues to guide us

The people of Ba Dinh weep, tears falling endlessly
And the love that he gave covers the entire homeland

Oh, we cry, our hearts feel torn
From within us, the tears turn into vows

We cry for every place still bound by chains
For our lives and for the generations to come

We cry for the Trường Sơn, for Tháp Mười, and for the South still waiting for Uncle
We cry for the wrongs that caused Uncle pain

We know our strength in these tears
We cry today, so we can rise tomorrow and fight for freedom

After years of being his comrade, I call him: Comrade
As I say goodbye, Comrade, Uncle Ho
I vow to be a part of him, loyal until the end

Ho Chi Minh, the true Vietnamese communist, forever faithful
We wipe our tears and look up, the clear sunlight of Ba Dinh shines once more
We vow to carry this sunlight to our elderly mother in far Cà Mau
The air force teams, like our people, soar with Uncle, rising high

September 4th-10th, 1969

Source: “The Open Door,” Literature Publishing House, 1970

"The moon comes through the window asking for a poem"
Uncle Ho is just closing his eyes, please wait, dear moon!

We must walk lightly, even more quietly
Moon, please bow your head in silence...
Uncle Ho has never slept peacefully in his life
But tonight, as he rests, we watch over his sleep.

Whoever you are, do not leave the line
Move quietly, step by step, onward
Don’t cry out loud, tread lightly
Uncle Ho is only resting for a moment

Uncle lies there, still in his khaki uniform
Not yet changed, he just laid down to rest
If we’re not mistaken, Uncle just visited
A village of workers, checking their food and rest...

But that’s not it – as we look closely
We can still see the mark of a kiss on his cheek
The children of the village school, so lucky
To have Uncle Ho visit, giving them his blessings...

Whoever you are, clench your lips, hold back the sobs
Do not let your tears disturb him
Uncle Ho is only resting
We stand silently before his bed, gazing at him

His hair mixed with the white pillow
His beard sparse, but white as snow
We long to be a child, to gently stroke his beard
Each silver strand soaked by dew, wind, and sun
The sandals at the bedside tell the story
Of a man who forgot himself, giving everything to us!

With Uncle Ho, our ancestors shine brighter
His name is now etched in the pages of history
We stand in silence before his peaceful sleep!

We must walk lightly, even more quietly
Moon, please bow your head in silence...
Uncle Ho has never slept peacefully in his life
But tonight, as he rests, we watch over his sleep.

Whoever you are, don’t let your head droop in sorrow
Uncle Ho reminds us: we must rise and stand tall
The bed where he sleeps shines under the moonlight
This bed, the same as always, we will remember forever...

Beside Uncle, our comrades stand with us
Do you see the fan Uncle used so often?
A simple fan from his homeland, always by his side
Along with the sweet folk songs he knew so well
Near his pillow, the words of the people still warm the air
Radiance from the rivers and mountains gathers around him
Uncle Ho, as vast as the ocean, embracing all
The soul of the nation merging with the spirit of the times...

Whoever you are, crying like a child
Wipe your tears, don’t let them fall
Uncle Ho doesn’t want us to drown in sorrow
Before he rests, Uncle gave us this plea
His forehead imprinted with dreams of a bright future!

Read in his half-closed eyes: a smile
Uncle lies, his hands resting as always
His arms crossed, as though strolling through the garden
Oh, we remember the touch of his hands
Guiding the rhythm of the entire nation’s song
Tomorrow, when we liberate the South
We’ll sing without Uncle’s hand to guide us...

We stand silently before his peaceful rest!

We must walk lightly, even more quietly
Moon, please bow your head in silence...
Uncle Ho has never slept peacefully in his life
But tonight, as he rests, we watch over his sleep.

Whoever you are, from Cà Mau and beyond
Pause for a moment, step aside, friends
Who is richer than our Uncle Ho?
As he rests, the whole world gathers to him
On his bed, we don’t need candles
The moon and stars embrace him
Uncle loved the moon as he did a friend
In his poems, the moon and flowers are companions
Now, as the New Year arrives, no more words from Uncle
Wishing the people and soldiers, his voice still rings
Uncle’s voice warms the entire world
Thousands of generations will carry his light...

Whoever you are, tighten the ranks
See him waving, Uncle Ho’s smile
In Ba Dinh, the sunlight shines brightly
In our hearts and minds, he lives on
Even as he rests, the enemy cannot hope
The light of Ho Chi Minh will forever guide us
He wakes us: to hold onto humanity
We awake, pledging to stay with him forever
Let Uncle rest, his legacy lives
With Marx and Lenin, he rests in eternal peace
We watch over Uncle’s sleep, Uncle Ho...

(September 8th, 1969)

Every time we face a tough struggle,
We are blessed to have Uncle Ho visit us.
When we were in the depths of our mistakes,
He reached out, lifting us up with his hand.
His words, so gentle and kind,
Seemed to seep softly, but penetrate deeply into our hearts.
I sat before him, overwhelmed,
My guilt was heavy, unable to look him in the eye.
Uncle smiled, his skin still glowing red,
But his wide forehead had more gray in his hair.
He worried about a thousand national issues,
Concerned with every piece of clothing, every meal of the people;
Even in matters of weapons and tools,
He had to think about us as well.
As for me, lost in spirit,
I was still far from the Party’s true purpose.
Each of us, a mistake so deep,
Four hundred souls, with burdens so heavy.
On his head, the dew had turned to gray,
Surely some strands had turned white because of us.
- Feeling regret, restless,
But Uncle’s words, steadfast and clear:
"Rise from the mud, bloom like a lotus,
Even in the stink of the mud, it still smells of heaven."
His eyes, forever bright and clear,
Guided me through my darkest days.

Today, May 19th,
My heart is filled with joy, like a hundred laughs.
My mistakes are now eased,
My soul blooms again under the sky of Ho Chi Minh.
On the birthday of our beloved Uncle,
It is the birthday of the soul of every Vietnamese.

May 19, 1953

Commentary:

Following the passage of time, this is the second poem by Xuan Dieu about Uncle Ho, written almost ten years after his first poem, "The Portrait of Uncle Ho." Xuan Dieu wrote this poem on May 19th, 1953, the 63rd birthday of Uncle Ho. It can be said that “Poem for Uncle Ho” is a testament to the deep compassion of Uncle Ho – a noble soul, a great figure of World Culture. His image remains the bright flame that guides Vietnam, immortal in the hearts of millions of us. This poem also reflects the affection and gratitude of Xuan Dieu to Uncle Ho – the man who transformed the poet’s life and the artistic value of his poetry.

How joyful it is, one May morning,
On the road to Viet Bac, to visit Uncle Ho.
The long river flows with vibrant green,
From all directions, the capital winds blow through...

Uncle calls me to sit by his side,
He sits and writes at a simple stilt house.
The white dove, so innocent,
It searches for rice around the work desk.

After a while, the bird eats,
But Uncle Ho is still busy, greeting the guests.

My hand takes his, grasping firmly,
Uncle's hand warms my skin and heart.

Uncle sits there, large and vast,
The blue sky, the wide sea, the fields, and mountains…
Uncle Ho, our father,
The soul of millions of souls.
Let me kiss Uncle’s cheek,
Let me kiss his silver hair,
Let me kiss his beard, so peaceful, symbolizing harmony!

Oh, the beloved name Ho Chi Minh!
In the heart of the brave guerrilla,
In the midnight raids, attacking enemy posts,
The steadfast hands of rural soldiers,
Turning stones into rice,
His arms, marked by the scars of battle,
And the children with torches heading to school,
And the women transporting goods through the night!
Dear brothers and sisters, do you feel it?
Every time our hearts are stirred,
Our lips whisper: Uncle Ho Chi Minh!
And with each victory, each joyful season,
Uncle’s eyes appear, smiling with hope,
We grow taller, soaring wonderfully,
On this long road, his wings carry us...

Uncle Ho, the peace in our hearts,
Oh, the father, the gentle eyes of a mother!
His voice, not thunder from above,
But a warmth, filling our hearts with desire.
Listening to Uncle, I hear the voice of the mountains and rivers,
The voice of the past and the future...

Uncle Ho, in his simple brown shirt,
The color of the homeland, enduring and rich.
Being with him, he shines within me,
I suddenly feel a little taller beside him...
Uncle Ho, relaxed, lighting his cigarette,
His wide forehead peaceful under the sky.
There’s nothing more joyful than Uncle Ho’s smile,
Forgetting old age, always youthful at heart!
He is the radiant sun of the revolution,
While imperialists scatter like bats,
Flying away in the darkness under his feet.

Ho Chi Minh,
He is everywhere.

The soul of the vast ocean welcomes all whispers,
Listening to every word, every unspoken thought.
He is the Father, the Uncle, the Brother,
With a big heart that filters the blood of a thousand souls.
There he sits, with a red pencil,
Drawing the path, step by step...

There is no greater glory than fighting under the flag
The shining banner of the great Ho Chi Minh!
We remember every word he taught us:
The struggle is hard, but it is long-lasting,
Uncle says go, and we go,
Uncle says win, and we win.
Vietnam has Uncle Ho,
The world has Stalin.
Vietnam must be free,
The world must have peace!
We fight and sacrifice,
Our hearts steadfast, our oaths unbroken.

Shaking Uncle’s hand as he bids us farewell,
We will forever remember that summer morning in the war zone...

(May 1951)

Commentary:

This poem was written by poet To Huu in the Viet Bac war zone in 1951, when he had the opportunity to meet Uncle Ho for a propaganda mission. The poem begins by depicting the vibrant and majestic scenery of Viet Bac’s mountains and rivers, with Uncle Ho sitting in his simple stilt house on a small hill surrounded by lush green trees. Below the hill, the river flows gently, presenting the natural beauty of this revolutionary homeland. Against this beautiful and majestic backdrop, Uncle Ho’s image stands out clearly. His soul seems to be swept by the wind. He is the one who lifts us up, where we find peace. A father’s eyes, but also the kind eyes of a mother; his voice is warm, filling us with hope and desire... his words are the voice of our homeland, both past and future. The poem continues to praise Uncle’s virtues and greatness, especially his gentle yet powerful gaze, which symbolizes a boundless love for all of us. The poet skillfully describes how Uncle Ho's eyes reflect his kindness, as well as his immense spiritual strength, which guides us through our revolutionary journey. Uncle Ho embodies the highest virtues—simplicity, integrity, and an unwavering love for the country and its people. He will live forever in the hearts of the Vietnamese people. We will always be proud of him and follow his teachings to build the nation as he always dreamed, right until his last moments.