Top 11 Poems That Express the Emotional Experience of Revisiting Your Old School

I return here as the sun sets low

Visiting the old school, my beloved school
A sense of nostalgia stirs deep inside
Is the roof still covered in green moss?

I've arrived at this place, the familiar schoolyard
But why does my heart feel so heavy?
The teacher from back then stands in my mind
Has time turned his hair to silver now?

Along the old path, the familiar way
My steps feel light, as if floating in air
Is this old road still the same as before?
The trees by the side, still casting their shade

I meet my teacher again, and he is glad
His eyes fill with tears, a silent sadness
Years have passed, his form grown frail
But his eyes still sparkle with bright clarity

All these years, he's still the same
His voice deep and soaring with grace
He has nurtured generations with care
His image, so dear, is beyond compare

We share our stories, both full and empty
The teacher hopes for all generations, mine and others
That we strive for the future of our nation
To make Vietnam shine, radiant and proud

As I leave the school, so full of memories
The teacher offers many parting words
In my heart, these words remain forever
The teacher’s wisdom… the love of a mother.

Poem by: Vũ Như

At the end of summer, I return to visit the old school

Where my childhood once unfolded

Sixty years of memories I hold dear

As the tides of time have carried me far

How could I forget those peaceful days

The school I loved, the picture of my youth

All these years, the innocence remains

And the longing still lingers in my heart!

Outside, the golden “lim” flowers bloom brightly

Swaying with the breeze, filling the schoolyard

Before the porch, I see her form still lingering

The old book pages, weaving dreams and poems

I return on a breezy afternoon

And I can almost see her, with those innocent eyes

Her hair flowing as the sunlight dances by

In her white dress, as the leaves rustle

The evening falls, the “lim” flowers scent the air

I remember when school ended, I followed her

Chasing butterflies as the sun set on the porch

As the butterflies flew away, her tears fell

I gave her a freshly picked yellow flower

As a substitute for the butterfly, a symbol of love

Now, the old school still blooms with yellow flowers

But without her, I feel lost and forlorn

The old scene is vividly before my eyes

But where is she now, lost in some distant land?

Is she an angel, lost in the stars?

I still hear her sweet voice, echoing through time

The flowers still bloom brightly, the sky stretches far

I stand in silence, cherishing our first love

Is this old school like the legendary Hoàng Hạc Tower?

The golden butterflies are gone, never to return!

Author: Nguyễn Cang

I returned to visit my old school
The trees swayed gently in the breeze
The red phoenix flowers bloomed, a vivid reminder
Of old friends, of teachers, and memories so dear

The new white gates now open wide
But the breeze still stirs my heart inside
The school days in white uniforms still live on
We'd share our books, side by side, all day long

The familiar school, though aged, is still so dear
We press on, striving for more knowledge, year by year
Renovated rooms and classrooms stand in place
Our teachers and friends forever etched in grace

Alone, I walked the hallways, hearing once more
The lessons of my teacher echo, as before
But the voice seemed to belong to the teacher of old
A tear slipped quietly as memories unfolded.

Poem: Trần Tâm

In November, I returned to visit my old school
The ancient maple tree now stands with fewer red leaves
The cold winter winds cut sharply through the air
Returning to this place, memories flood back and never fade

The old school is still here, but where have the people gone?
Yet, I can still hear the sound of pure laughter in the air
And the steps of my teacher as he stood before the class
The handwriting of my teacher on the blackboard so clear

My teacher, like a boatman, guided us forward
Across the river with books, pens, and ink in hand
He shared with us endless knowledge
And taught us how to live with truth and integrity

Generations of us are proud
To have had a teacher so noble and humble
In the battlefield, he was a warrior brave
And in everyday life, his loyalty remained strong

I returned, but my teacher is no longer here
The chalk dust has worn down over the years
I came back, but I feel guilty in my heart
A warm tear fell in the cold of winter.

Poem: Nguyễn Đình Huân

Today, I returned to my old school
The setting sun cast a pale light on the faded walls
As I gazed at the school, memories came rushing back
Recalling the innocent days of youth, so far away!
How could I forget that one day...
A warm sunny morning, calm and bright
Shy, as it was my very first day
Following my mother’s steps, my heart heavy with fear
Unsure what I would find at school
Would I meet a strict teacher, always scolding?
But the school loomed in the distance
Next to the ancient temple and the banyan tree!
The banyan leaves rustled in the breeze
I could hear the faint voices of children reading
My heart fluttered, anxiety rising
I followed my mother through the school gate...
Years passed under the school’s roof
And with time, much has changed...
Seeing my teacher now, my eyes filled with tears
For who among us can forget the strength of their lessons?
...........
In this world, we are born from our parents' love
But the greatest gift is the love of a teacher!!!

November 20, 2022.

Poem: Guise Hoangtho

By the threshold, I gaze at my old school
The marks of time are etched deep
Friends are still here, but my teacher has passed
The sound of lessons is gone, and the students are fewer

The sunlight rests on my shoulders, evoking memories
The white uniforms of youth so innocent
Books in hand, we left after class
The young dreamer carrying his heart’s desires
Some still follow the paths of youth
Others, lost in time, now far away
Some pages of beauty were torn by life's struggles
And hidden away, promises whispered long ago

The playground is quiet, the sun faintly warm
But the memories linger, as fresh as ever
Gentle reminders of a time long passed
By the threshold, I gaze at my old school once again.

Poem: Hoàng Lan

Thirty-five winters have passed since I left that place,
Now, returning with the breeze of autumn's grace.
The old school holds memories, both full and bare,
Of childhood days, so innocent and unaware...

Now in the wind, I hear the whispers of the past,
Do you remember, or was it too soon to last?
On the old path, the sunset's glow still stays,
After school, I recall our glances and stray gazes...

Many years were buried deep in life's pursuit,
Chasing after dreams, in a world so absolute.
Did those strangers from the past, feel love at all?
Back when we were students, dreaming so tall...

From far away, my heart still remembers the waves,
It aches when recalling the old school’s lanes.
Now, this afternoon, the schoolyard fades from view,
And I stand, lost, thinking of someone too...

Oh, childhood, where can I find you now?
The dreamer girl, so naive, but somehow,
Forever in me, a love remains unchanged,
Hidden in my heart, where a stranger’s love stayed...

6/12/2021.
Poem: Thuỳ Dương.

Come back soon, my dear... and visit the old school,

My heart aches... the season of Phoenix flowers burns bright,
So many years gone by... counting on fingers... once more,
With Phoenix eyes red and wet, beneath the sky's light.

The sound of cicadas... echoes deep in my soul,
The chalk dust falls... in the teacher’s silver hair,
I listen closely... as you sing softly, from the back row,
A melody of love... a longing to care.

At the end of the road... where does the sunlight go?
Why does the final evening rain take so long to fall?
The little bird... perches on the branch, a soft hello,
As the cicadas fall silent... and we haven't returned at all.

Our friends... scattered far and wide, lost in time,
Those couples from the past... where did they go?
It’s been so long... since we last met face to face,
Our once green hair... now tinged with time’s glow.

The flowers once fragile... now bloom with vibrant hue,
The dust of years, deep and marked with memories,
The yellow blossoms by the gate... now turn to purple too,
And the sunset at the horizon... touches my heart’s pleas.

The younger ones... help us remember the old days,
The old Phoenix tree... holds the names we once knew.
Tomorrow, you’ll return... with the Sun’s first rays,
The leaves stir gently... as the sky remains so blue.

Return quickly... the past still calls out for us,
The old desk... the wall where moss grew so green,
Come back, my dear... as the Phoenix sets the sky alight,
TO THE OLD SCHOOL... where love remains unseen.

Tomorrow! Come back... we’ve shared this bond,
Where have our dear friends gone? Why are they all gone?

Poem: Tho Bui

Gone is the time of the red flame flowers
The old school is now covered in moss and mist
Far from the school, I still hold on to dreams
Hoping for one day to visit the old school again
Where are my friends now, scattered far apart?
On graduation day, each went their own way
As the years pass, my heart feels lost and adrift
Memories rise up, overwhelming my mind
I stand motionless, waiting before the school gate
Hoping to see a familiar face again
But my heart aches, tears well up in my eyes
Everything is so quiet, the old school abandoned
I long to retrieve a time long gone
But in confusion, my heart feels ready to break
I suddenly miss, with deep longing, those days
The white chalk on the blackboard, slowly fading away
I remember the pure and innocent souls
Those cheerful, dream-filled voices I heard
Innocently, we wrote in each other’s diaries
I wonder if they still remember me, after all these years?
Decades have passed, so far away
The white school uniforms flying in the wind
The path leading from school, with red flame flowers falling
Youth, oh youth! A time everyone has
Though filled with joy and sorrow, sometimes far from poetic
It cannot be erased from memory
It lingers with us as we grow old...

Poem: BÍCH LIÊN

Summer returns, and the schoolyard remains
The flame flowers are still here, but where are the white uniforms?
The sound of cicadas hums memories
As nostalgic feelings stir inside me.

The old flame tree where we carved our names
Our initials, once just you and me
The schoolyard now covered in fallen flowers
The stone benches, silent as ever.

I return to visit the old school again
On a quiet summer afternoon, the breeze blows gently
On the branch of the flame tree, a small bird sits
Looking around, as if waiting for something.

Where are the old teachers, the friends from the past?
The blackboard still stands, watching over me
The teacher’s voice echoes in my ears
But where is everyone? It’s only me now.

Poem: Thới Văn Giai