Top 10 Most Beautiful Poems by Poet Tham Tam

The land of Thang Long, vast and free,

The shimmering lake reflects the blue sky.

A group united by shared devotion,

Gathered together for a celebration of brotherhood.

The sword’s blade is marked by humanity,

Mountains shape the earth, while trees stand tall.

Weak hands join with the strong in solidarity,

The wine’s joy is still unspent, its effects lingering.

The land provides, yet the sea cannot satisfy,

The storm brews amidst the revelry.

They declare: 'Through the winds and storms, we must stand,

Our poetry will be the voice of the world!'

The verse is spoken, though times are still hard.

The celebration ends, leaving frustration behind,

The swallows and cranes fly in the cold,

The tiger’s claws and elephant’s feet still toil.

One struggles to let go of the past,

While the other bears the bitterness of unspoken words.

The scholar is bound by tradition,

The poet continues their quest for truth.

The river of time has changed the course,

But I despise the phrase “once was past.”

Outside, the rain falls: spring warms the wine,

And the heart’s longing burns with desire.

- Oh, my wandering friends,

Though you may not read my poem, you will return.

Poem published in 'Tiểu thuyết thứ bảy', Issue 2, July 1944.

Source:

1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, 'Vietnamese Poets Before the War', Sống Mới Publishing, Saigon, 1968.

2. Thâm Tâm’s Poetry, Literature Publishing House, 1988.

The past has faded, where are the old faces?

Old love from the years gone by, now indifferent.

The flowers smile, but there is a hidden sorrow,

Faint sadness lingers on the face, a wistful gaze.

We curse time, regret the loss of innocence,

Who now holds the heart of spring's affection?

Innocent dreams of youth are now gone,

The scene is distant, and the parting is bitter.

Meeting in the shadow of spring's blossoms,

As winds swirl and birds sing their songs.

Red cheeks, fragrant as the flower's bloom,

Delicate petals glisten with the dew of morning.

The vibrant spring, with fresh buds and blossoms,

Woven together in a dream that stirs the heart.

The maiden holds the dream of a crimson wing,

With verses plucked from the sky, where I love...

From that moment, the evening spring spoke to us,

Branches swayed, and leaves hummed a gentle tune.

I sought the maiden in the sunshine,

Listening to the birds singing, as her laughter bloomed with flowers.

But here, the sunshine is lost in sorrow,

Three springs pass, the birds stop their flight...

1941

This was Tham Tam's first poem published in a newspaper.

Two lovers, each with a piece of love,

Like the moon, the gold of a pure reflection.

The cup of lotus leaves its mouth dry, pledging sorrow;

A fan made of bamboo passed in hand, promises broken in form.

The wind howls across the old dreams,

The vines of hatred still lingering, though time moves on!

In sadness, I burn the grasses of longing,

The smoke rises through the clouds, reminding me of myself...

Excerpt from the story 'The Fan Leaf of the Flowered Chrysanthemum' (published in the Saturday Novel Magazine, Issue 416, June 6, 1942).

Source:

1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnam's Pre-War Poets, Sống Mới Publishing, Saigon, 1968

2. Thâm Tâm, Poems and Childhood, Kim Đồng Publishing, 2001

Tonight, I rest my head on the rifle,

Tossing and turning, hearing the hot blood pulse.

I lie, hearing the village farmers rise,

Stirring, while a mother clutches her child.

The sound of rain dripping on the slick ground,

Each second feels like it’s draining my strength.

The fire smolders, aching within,

In the eyes of a girl, the bitterness is sharp.

Life is bright, like a full bowl of water,

Shattered beneath the boot of invaders!

I clench my jaw tight,

Biting my lip, grinding my teeth, aging my face.

Dozens of old men keep watch,

Armed with knives, daggers, their heads on the pillows.

Tonight, I wake in pain,

Suddenly hearing chilling cries of terror.

What is it, village?

The special forces, far away, are finally back...

The land, once sealed tight,

Suddenly bursts forth, boiling with life.

What is it, village?

The resolve to fight invaders has hardened like steel!

From within the groans, they break out,

There are women with deep sorrow in their hearts,

There are old men with silver hair,

Eyes bloodshot with the shame of past defeat.

Children’s laughter now faint,

The burned banana trees rise again, sprouting new shoots.

This is the people!

Skin weathered through many years of toil,

Enduring agony, bearing the weight of sorrow.

Bamboo thorns hide their faces, and wooden fences block the village.

They grow strong, standing firm,

The sharp edges of the militia are unyielding.

Oh gun! Heavy with anger,

We fight on, heated by the rage of revenge.

Together we rise from hardship,

Together we feel the collective pain of our people.

1946

Source: Poems of Thâm Tâm, Literature Publishing House, 1988

This evening, our last before parting,

You try to hold me, but for what purpose?

How many moments in life are truly awake?

Let me take one last drink before I go.

The pain of love isn’t as sharp as the pain of duty,

Even a fragile hand can throw away an empty cup.

Green eyes, gazing through the stormy winds.

The heart can’t remain in the world of songs and poems.

The wine of spring, with its old, familiar scent,

As I leave, our bond becomes ever clearer.

The wind rises! The wind rises! Let’s shake it off,

Why linger when the bird has flown?

The earth and sky are too vast for me to bear,

I plant myself here, like a lone raft in the river.

Pour me some wine, I’m ready to drink,

Completely sober, yet overwhelmed by passion.

Tomorrow, as I cross Ninh Cơ’s cold shore,

I’ll feel my heart ache from the bitter winds.

The sound of the lute, full of longing, is pointless now,

I’ve made my decision, I must go.

1944

Source:

1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnamese Poets Before the War, NXB Sống Mới, Saigon, 1968

2. Poems of Thâm Tâm, Literature Publishing House, 1988

Farewell, Hương Mountain!
Farewell, oh, this simple yet painful sound!
Once, as true companions we journeyed together,
The mist of time has now colored the sky.
The wine fades, and sleep takes over the night,
The river’s waves echo with endless memories…
Farewell, Hương Mountain!
Farewell, oh, this simple yet painful sound!
Parting, yet the shadow of sorrow lingers,
Who can retain the color of time in their eyes?
The river’s waves flow softly through the night,
The sound of parting on a distant lute chills the air…
How beautiful the thousand springs are,
Yet the long road home remains lost to me!

This poem was published in Saturday Novels, issue 416, June 6, 1942.

Source:
1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnamese Poets Before the War, NXB Sống Mới, Saigon, 1968
2. Poems of Thâm Tâm, Literature Publishing House, 1988

The mountain is purple, as the evening sun fades away;

The road feels lonely, with no one passing by.

Who has a bruised heart, who is engulfed in sorrow,

All because life's forest led us astray.

The Gạo flowers fall today with the dusk,

Leaving the dry branches cracking as if they call out.

Each tree torn, no one to mend it,

Who can repair a tree that’s been shattered so much?

I thought she was gathering fallen petals,

To gift them along with a song of mine.

But the poet’s soul, filled with thoughts profound,

Stains my being with blood, bright and fierce!

Looking at the flowers that fall on the street,

Oh, how I fear the hospital’s cold embrace.

So many mouths speak, so much blood spilled,

As hearts in agony fall to the bed.

This poem was published in Saturday Novels, issue 305, April 20, 1940.

Source:

1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnamese Poets Before the War, NXB Sống Mới, Saigon, 1968

2. Poems of Thâm Tâm, Literature Publishing House, 1988

When sending someone, I don't take them across the river,

Why does the sound of waves echo in my heart?

The evening isn't warm, nor golden,

Why do my eyes reflect the sunset's glow?

I only send the one person away,

Parting from family, indifferent to everything...

- Farewell, farewell! The narrow road,

Unfulfilled ambitions, my hands empty,

Never to return with words once spoken!

Three years, don't expect my elderly mother!

*

I know you were sad the evening before:

Now, summer blooms its last lotuses,

One sister, two sisters, like the lotus flowers,

Encouraging younger brothers with tears unspoken.

I know you were sad this morning:

The sky isn't yet autumn, but it shines brightly,

Your innocent eyes, so pure and clear,

Wrap your sorrow in a handkerchief...

You're leaving? Yes, you're truly leaving!

Mother would rather think of you as a drifting leaf,

Sister would consider you a speck of dust,

And I would consider you like the scent of wine.

This poem was first published in the Saturday Novel magazine in 1940 and later included in the anthology "Vietnamese Poets" by Hoai Thanh and Hoai Chan. The 1968 edition of "Vietnamese Poets Before the War" added another stanza as follows:

The autumn clouds over the mountains, the wind and moon rising,

The cold of the evening shadows silently fall.

The traveler by the sky hears a desire to weep,

The world's turmoil, silent resentment.

According to Bui Viet Tan in the 1951 Resistance Literature Journal, "In late 1949, during a long trip from Region 3 to Viet Bac, I had the chance to travel with poet Tham Tam (Nguyen Tuan Trinh)... The inspiration for the poem 'Farewell Poem' came from a man named Pham Quang Hoa, who had left his family before 1945 and joined the revolution. I asked Tham Tam about Pham Quang Hoa’s whereabouts, and Tham Tam said that he had returned and continued his life as a man in the tumultuous times." This poem was later set to music by composer Tram Tu Thiêng.

This poem was also included in the 11th-grade Literature curriculum from 1990-2006 but was omitted from the 2007 edition of Vietnamese Literature.

Source:

1. Tham Tam's Poetry, Literature Publishing House, Hanoi, 1988

2. Nguyen Tan Long, Nguyen Huu Trong, Vietnamese Poets Before the War, Sống Mới Publishing House, Saigon, 1968

3. Selected Vietnamese Literature (Volume 7: Literature from 1900-1945), National Center for Social Sciences and Humanities, Social Science Publishing House, 2004

4. Hoai Thanh, Hoai Chan, Vietnamese Poets (1932-1941), Literature Publishing House, 2007

Dedicated to T.T.KH. - The author of the poem “Two Colors of Tigon Flower”

They return the wilting petals,

So our love story ends here.

The blood-red color of the tigon has faded,

And the heart of my former love wears mourning.

Oh! my beloved, how could this be?

Little did I know you’d destroy my life!

In the grave of sorrow, I will always remember

Your image, forever engraved in my soul.

How could I forget our beginning?

A tigon petal etched deep in my heart!

Once, a hopeful flower,

Now only the shadow of a heart in pain remains.

What can I do, oh heaven!

Ending love is so cruel, it haunts me endlessly!

Now you may keep that withered branch,

A thousand-year-old memory of a single lifetime!

This poem was set to music by composer Việt Dzũng, turning it into a song of the same title.

Source:

1. Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnamese Pre-War Poets, NXB Sống Mới, Saigon, 1968

2. Thơ Thâm Tâm, NXB Văn học, 1988

(Dedicated to T.T.Kh.)

When I knew that your heart had died,

The clouds turned gray, and the leaves lost their green.

The vibrant flowers wilted on the branches

And the entire universe became a dark abyss.

I tried to keep my heart composed

To remember the moments of the past.

You walked beside me under the palm tree shadows,

One bright moonlit night along the red stone path.

Do you remember what you said? I still recall,

But how can anyone truly understand why?

The bird wants to fly, but can’t be contained,

Love has died, what hope is there for its revival?

I hold no grudges for your wrongs,

I do not mourn the fragile nature of fate.

What’s there to lament when the butterfly leaves the branch?

I simply regret the death of what once was.

But I know that what is gone is truly gone,

The more I mourn, the more I am compelled to write poetry;

The dream was once green, now it withers away,

Here is my final poem, presented to you, my friend.

And I wish for your life to always be bright,

Like the warm dreams of youthful spring,

Like the gentle fragrance of purity’s essence

Harmonized with the melody of Happiness.

The separation came at the perfect moment,

My heart was confused, lost at the crossroads;

I could not bear to leave, nor stay,

All the birds of Vietnam should return to the old capital.

This afternoon is cold, and the mist is falling heavily,

But my heart has now found peace.

No more sorrow, only a simmering feeling

Of deep frustration from a misguided time.

Using art as a puppet show of folly,

Offering my talents to serve the mysterious gaze.

To beg for a smile of grace;

The beautiful maiden in her hidden tower.

Meanwhile, the youth are not lingering,

Leaving family and school to march away.

Invasion threatens the borders,

The horn calls soldiers to defend the nation.

Goodbye, my dear! From here, I take my steps,

May you find peace and joy in life.

Do not mourn, do not feel regret,

All things are determined by fate’s course.

Source: Nguyễn Tấn Long, Nguyễn Hữu Trọng, Vietnamese Pre-War Poets, NXB Sống Mới, Saigon, 1968