Top 10 Most Beautiful Poems About the Homeland

The Land

By Nguyễn Đình Thi

The morning is as cool as the mornings of the past

The autumn breeze carries the scent of fresh green rice cakes

I miss the autumn days that have passed

The early morning chill fills Hanoi’s heart

The long streets are filled with the whisper of leaves

People leave without turning back

Behind them, the steps are covered with falling leaves.

This autumn is different now

I stand joyfully amidst the mountains and hills

The wind rustles the bamboo forest

The sky puts on a new autumn coat

In the clear sky, laughter and warmth abound!

The blue sky is ours

The mountains and forests are ours

The fragrant, cool fields

The endless roads

The rivers laden with red silt

Our waters

Our land, where no one has ever yielded

At night, the earth hums softly

Echoes of past days still linger!

Oh, the fields of our homeland bleed

The barbed wire pierces the evening sky

The long nights of war ignite our souls

Suddenly, I remember the eyes of my lover.

From the painful years of struggle

The face of our homeland shines through

From the rice fields and the humble bamboo groves

The cries of anger rise up

The rice bowl overflows with tears

Flying away from our mouths

The French, the feudal lords

One holds our necks, the other strips our skin…

Their chains cannot bind us

The sky is filled with birds, and the earth with flowers

Their bullets cannot kill our spirit

Our people love the land and cherish their homes!

The smoke from factories rises in the mountain mist

The bugle calls across the fields

The people of the earth, in their simple clothing

Have risen as heroes.

The sun’s heat burns through the day, the rain cools the night

Each step forward is a step of sacrifice

The burning forehead knows the power of the earth and sky

Our hearts are as vast as the dawn’s light.

The sound of gunfire shakes the sky with rage

The people rise like a tide breaking the shore

Vietnam’s waters, born from blood and fire

Rise from the mud, shining bright.

Central Vietnam, My Homeland

By Huỳnh Minh Nhật

My homeland is Central Vietnam
A place where storms and floods rage all year round
Where elderly mothers mourn the harvests
And fathers, with graying hair, find no peace in sleep.

The poor endure endless hardship
Mothers bent over day and night, working tirelessly
Fathers in their fifties, tilling rocky fields
Oh, the hardship – drenched in sweat and exhaustion.

Where is this? Where is it that storms sweep away
Where is it that the sun burns through, darkening skin and hair?
Where is it that you hear the cries of elderly mothers
Where is it that suffering is endless
But people refuse to fall?

Where is it that voices carry the weight of struggle
And the words are hard to bear with the pain of life?
Where is it that there are so many wrinkles
And the hair is gray, worn by the harsh winds and rain?

My homeland has known hardship for generations
And the heavens send endless storms
How can we rid ourselves of this sorrow
How can we make it easier for our mothers?

I left my homeland when I was just ten
And have not heard laughter there in many years
I long to return and see once more
The peaceful peak of Ấn and the winding Trà Câu River...

Remembering the River of My Homeland

By Tế Hanh

My homeland has a river, a deep green stream
The clear water reflects the bamboo trees
My soul is a summer afternoon
The sun casts its golden rays on the shimmering river.

I don’t know if the river holds the days, the months
Or how many memories it keeps flowing by?
Oh, the river that cradled my life!
I will always cherish my youthful love for it
The river of my homeland, the river of my youth
The river of the beloved Southern Vietnam.

When the bamboo groves hum with the birds’ calls
When the water ripples and the fish leap
My friends gather, laughing and playing
The young birds swim happily on the river
I reach out my hand to embrace the water
The river swallows me, holding me in its depths.

We grew up, each taking different paths
Some cast their nets by the river at dawn and dusk
Others toil under the sun in the fields
I took up arms and left home to fight
But my heart, like the river’s current and the sea breeze
Always returns, yearning for the river.

Now I live in the heart of the North
And I place my hand on my chest, hearing my heart whisper
Two sacred words, ‘the South’
I miss the golden light, the blue sky
I remember even the faces of strangers…
There are afternoons when I stand beneath the trees
And suddenly feel overwhelmed with emotion
As memories of the cool river rise within me
Flowing through my heart like a stream that nourishes it.
Oh homeland! My heart is like the river
The love between the North and the South flows together
No wave or rapids can block it
I will return to the place I have always dreamed of
I will return to the waters of my homeland
I will return to the river of love.

Homeland

By Trúc Quỳnh

My homeland is simple, not far away
Fields of sugarcane, vegetable gardens, and coffee plots
The bamboo grove along the dike in the fading afternoon sun
Waves of rice fields swaying in the breeze.

My homeland is humble, not grand
The thatched roof houses stand under the soft evening light
Smoke rises in the cool dusk, carrying the scent of new rice
The wind hums a gentle tune in the air.

My homeland is written in history
A curving strip of land adorned with jewels
Rocky mountains on the edge of the vast sea
Green forests, clear streams, and countless flowers.

My homeland is serene, filled with songs
The Northern and Southern melodies are sweet and vibrant
In Hue, by the iconic Trường Tiền Bridge and Vỹ Dạ Village
Anyone who listens can hear and dream along.

My homeland is stained red by fertile silt
Nine dragon-shaped rivers creating a graceful figure
The lush rice paddies stretch wide and green
White herons fly far into the sky.

My homeland will forever reside within us
No matter how far we roam, or how distant our home
The sacred land, the birthplace, is known to all...
Just as we know the love of Mother and Father!

Homeland

By Hồ Văn Thiên

I have been far from my homeland for many years
But the scent of home never fades with time
I long for a simple meal of wild spinach
Served with salted crab and fried river shrimp.

Many nights I dream of golden straw stacks
Intoxicated by the scent of freshly harvested rice, lost in deep sleep
My eyes sting as if from winter smoke
Spinning around the glowing embers of a fire, roasting sweet potatoes.

In front of the house, the white apricot flowers bloom
I recall the scent of grapefruit flowers as Aunt Hai washes her hair
The sour starfruit and bitter fig have soaked for a long time
Memories of rice with salted eggplant, and pumpkin soup with shrimp tails.

I remember the one with dimples, red lips
On a moonlit night, she hurriedly handed me fragrant green rice
Our hands met, warm and fragrant
Through the years, the paths we walked have not erased these memories.

Homeland

By Tế Hanh

The village I grew up in was known for its fishing trade
The water surrounded it, half a day’s journey from the sea
When the sky is clear and the morning breeze is soft and warm
The young men paddle their boats to go fishing
The boat, light and fast like a stallion
Paddles cutting through the water, powering forward across the river
The boat, as wide as the spirit of the village
It stretches its body to capture the vast wind.

The next day, the bustling quay is filled with activity
The whole village gathers to welcome the return of the boats
Thanks to heaven, the sea is calm, the boats are full of fish
Fresh, silver-bodied fish gleam in the sunlight
The fishermen, sun-kissed and weathered
Their skin smells of salt, the distant ocean breeze
The boats settle at the quay, tired from the long journey
The salty scent of the sea seeps into every crevice of the boat.

Now, far away, my heart always longs for home
The green waters, the silver fish, and the white sails
The fleeting image of a boat cutting through the waves to the open sea
I can still smell the pungent, salty air.

The Picture of Homeland

By Hà Thu

My homeland is forever beautiful in my heart
The river winds around, its banks shifting and changing
The storks glide gracefully in the breeze
The cows graze in the lush green meadow.

The reed warbler sings in the wind
Serenity and harmony fill the air with love
The scene is like a paradise
And the poet’s soul stirs, weighed with deep affection.

Homeland

By Giang Nam

When I was a child, I went to school twice a day

I loved my homeland through each little book

"Who says tending buffaloes is a hardship?"

I daydreamed while listening to birds singing above

There were days I skipped school

Chasing butterflies by the pond

When mother found out…

Before a single blow, I was already crying!

There was a girl from the next house

She would giggle when she saw me...

The revolution erupted

And the long war began

My homeland was full of the enemy

I bid farewell to mother and left

The girl from next door, who would have known!

She joined the guerilla forces too

The day we met again, she was still laughing lightly

Her eyes, so dark and full of sympathy!

In the middle of the march, we couldn't speak a word

The unit passed by, and I looked back

The rain poured, but my heart remained warm...

After the war, I came back here

To the old school, the sugarcane field, the plowed field

I met her again

Shyly hiding behind the door

She still giggled when I asked quietly

"The matters of husbands and children are hard to talk about, dear!"

I held her small, delicate hand with sorrow

She left it in mine, warm with emotion...

Then today, I received the news about her

I couldn’t believe it, even though it was the truth

The enemy shot her, cast her body away

Only because she was a guerilla, my dear!

My heart broke, as if I had lost half of myself!

Once, I loved my homeland for its birds and butterflies

For the days I skipped school and got punished

Now I love my homeland because in every handful of earth

There is a piece of flesh and bone from you, my dear.

Homeland

By Đỗ Trung Quân

What is homeland, mother, that

My teacher says we must love it?

What is homeland, mother, that

Anyone who leaves always longs for it?

Homeland is the sweet starfruit tree

Where I climb to pick fruits every day

Homeland is the road I take to school

Where butterflies flutter in golden clouds

Homeland is the blue kite

That I flew in the fields during childhood

Homeland is the little boat

Gently rocking as it crosses the river

Homeland is the small bamboo bridge

Where my mother, with her conical hat, walks home

It is the fragrance of flowers in the meadow

Carried in the summer night's dreams

Homeland is the warm embrace

Where I slept soundly through the night rain

Homeland is the bright moonlit night

With the betel flowers falling white on the doorstep

Homeland is the golden pumpkin flowers

And the pinkish-purple leaves of the malabar spinach fence

Homeland is the red hibiscus petals

And the pure white lotus blooms

Everyone has only one homeland

Just as everyone has only one mother

Who could forget their homeland...

Vietnam, My Homeland

By Nguyễn Đình Thi

Oh Vietnam, my beloved land,

Boundless seas of rice, no skies are grander

The herons glide, the fields are wide,

Clouds shroud the peaks of Trường Sơn in the morning and night

How dear our homeland is to us,

Through the ages, we've endured much pain and loss

Faces worn with toil, etched in time,

Both men and women dressed in humble, weathered attire

Our poor soil birthed heroes bold,

Through blood and fire, they rose again, strong and untold

They crushed the enemy beneath their might,

And with swords cast aside, they returned to peace, once bright

Vietnam, the land of sun and light,

Where flowers bloom and fruit abound in endless sight

The dark-eyed girls, with hearts so pure,

Love unbroken, their devotion forever sure

In every region, there is a craft,

Visitors from afar marvel at its artful draft

The hands of our people seem to wield magic,

We weave a thousand poems with leaves so fantastic

The waters carry the echoes of boats adrift,

At night, the song of Trương Chi still lifts

Hunger and hardship have torn us apart,

But the heart remembers the homeland, even when we depart

We leave, but our hearts stay bound to the land,

The rivers and mountains, forever hand in hand

The fields, the tubers, the simple meals,

With greens and crispy eggplant, this is what life feels...