Top 13 Beautiful Poems by Poet Tế Hanh

Author: Tế Hanh

The storm leans against the night
The trees bend, leaves scatter
I hold your hand
Together we cross the street to avoid falling
The storm has long passed
The trees are green again
But you are far away

And the storm inside me still blows on.

Author: Tế Hanh

Being far from my homeland makes me love it more
Being away from you makes me miss you even more
The moon over West Lake shines endlessly
The sky of Hangzhou is peaceful all around
The autumn has passed, leaving behind
A little bit of gold in the trees and sunlight
A bit of sadness in the wind and clouds
A little bit of joy on the lips of the young girl...

I’ve visited historical places
The road of Su Dongpo, a poet-philosopher
The path of Bai Juyi, a poet so grand
The spirits of the past linger in the air
Still echoing on the willow trees

The landscape is beautiful, yet I feel incomplete
I want to add a little more to the scene
Perhaps with both of us resting by the bridge
So the water of West Lake is even clearer.
The red maple leaves symbolize a burning love
The golden chrysanthemums mirror lingering memories
The rippling waters reflect someone’s gaze
The breeze carries your hand’s wave
We’ve loved each other ever since then
With mountains, rivers, and the stars above
With anger, dreams, and the bittersweet life of resistance
How can I ever express it, my love, all the memories...

The sad days seem joyful when I think of them
On the joyful days, there’s a sense of longing
I don’t want to ask too many questions of the past
The best day is the one when we meet
Leaving West Lake and heading to North Gaofeng
Only me in silence in my room
Looking at the embroidered picture on the wall:
Two figures walking under the pine trees
Who wove this tapestry of my heart?

The sounds of spring accompany the waves
The love we shared, now drifting in dreams
I dream of Hangzhou turning into Hanoi
And West Lake transforming into West Hoan Kiem.

We walked beneath the trees together.

Author: Tế Hanh

It was inevitable that I came to you
Like a river returning to the sea
Like after winter, spring arrives
Like after the rain, the sun rises

It was inevitable that I came to you
Like the flower blooms at its destined time
Like the bird returns to its nest at dusk
Like blood returning to the heart

It was inevitable that I came to you
Like a story reaching its conclusion
Like a compass needle pointing north
My life is directed toward yours

It was inevitable that I came to you

Author: Tế Hanh

I love you like a flower blooming, not thinking of its withering
I love you like the full moon, not thinking of its waning
I love you like a person at a banquet
Sipping a full cup of wine, not thinking of its end.

Author: Tế Hanh

Bulgarian Rose
Oh! The miraculous flower

I don’t know where it grows
Following people or carried by the wind
Since the 17th century
The flower bloomed here.

In a valley surrounded by mountains
A valley of roses
Blooming once a year
As the earth and sky welcome spring.

Remember when kings and rulers
Took all the roses
The thorns drew blood
And the people were left empty-handed.

During the time of Hitler
They banned the roses from blooming
Trying to destroy nature's fragrance
Leaving only the scent of chemicals.

But even those brutal tyrants
Were finally defeated
And the valley of roses
Bloomed more beautifully than ever.

Oh! The miraculous flower
Bulgarian Rose.

Author: Tế Hanh

Hanoi, the streets less crowded
Hanoi, the lights dimmer

Hanoi now in the countryside
Hanoi marching to the frontlines

Hanoi dresses in green and brown
With a rifle slung on its shoulder

Hanoi still loves, smiling bright
Walking with firm steps

Hanoi soars into the blue sky
With jet angels flying high

Hanoi connects through the centuries
The Red River water still stirs

Hanoi is everywhere
Like the conscience of the era

Hanoi is in everyone
Like a warm, beating heart

One corner of Hanoi bombed
The heart of Quang Binh boiling

The sound of Hanoi’s rockets
Stirring the hearts of Saigon

Oh, the image of Uncle Ho
The clear waters of Hoan Kiem Lake

Hanoi forever the capital
Hanoi forever Hanoi...

Author: Tế Hanh

Spring of seventy-five. The Lunar New Year of Tan Bien
A branch of wild apricot blooms beside the forest well
You were drawing water when suddenly
You saw the golden apricot blossom, and with a heart full of longing for home
At this moment, mother is far away in the countryside
The branch of apricot mother placed must surely bloom even brighter.

Author: Tế Hanh

The first mother silently gazes at her child,

Her soul stirred deeply,

The feeling of love, flesh and blood melting like water

Life multiplied, waves crashing in rhythm

In a moment, she bears a new love

Her body overwhelmed, spirit shining bright

From ‘I am’ to ‘I must’

She stands above her fate, transcending it.

She watches the newborn, vibrant and alive

It is as if she is reunited with her own self

What was once shared in the act of birth

Now carries the essence of life, the blood flowing anew

She lifts her child into the light.

Her joy radiates, reaching beyond the horizon,

From the lifeless material world

Life rises toward the warmth of the sun.

Author: Tế Hanh

The dying heart of the setting day

Overflowing with tears, darkening the world

It is the moment when the sky is sorrowful and forlorn

Lowering itself, cradling the earth against the freezing cold

Is it not because of my own nature?

External forces stir up the grief

In the emptiness, thoughts of death drift in the wind,

The soul stands disoriented before the abyss

Lonely, even the pure shadow fades away

The left hand indifferent, the right hand cold

Indifferently letting go of all connection.

A small chicken lost in the village

Calls out in sorrow, mourning its lost mother

Is it that my heart aches in loneliness

Calling for a companion in the sunset?

Author: Tế Hanh

This time, I find myself missing Quy Nhơn

The mind is restless, thoughts flicker

When will you return to Bình Định?

The palm trees in the wind call with each gust.

Author: Tế Hanh

My village has long been a fishing community:
The water surrounds it, half a day's journey from the sea.
When the sky is clear, the wind gentle, and the morning glow,
Young men row boats to catch fish:

The boat swift like a stallion
Rows its oars with strength, crossing wide rivers.
The sail billows, as large as the village's soul
Stretching white, collecting the breeze...

The next day, the dock is lively
As the villagers bustle to welcome the boats home.
"Thanks to the gods, the sea is calm and the boats are full of fish",
The fresh fish glistening with silver scales.

The fishermen, their skin tanned from the sun,
With bodies steeped in the scent of distant lands;
The boat rests at the dock, weary from its journey
And the salty air slowly soaks into its wooden frame.

Now, far away, I always long for
The blue waters, the silver fish, the white sail,
And the fleeting boat cutting through the waves,
I miss the salty smell so much!

Author: Tế Hanh

My homeland has a river so blue and clear
The mirror-like water reflects the bamboo groves.
My soul is a summer afternoon
With sunlight shimmering across the river's surface.
Who knows if the water holds the days, the months
And the memories drifting within it?
Oh, river that has bathed my whole life!
I keep forever the new bond,
The river of my homeland, the river of my youth,
The river of southern Vietnam, so dear.

When the bamboo banks are alive with the sound of birds,
When the water shimmers as fish leap,
My friends gather, laughing together,
The little birds swim on the river.
I reach out my hands to embrace the water,
The river embraces me in return,
We grew up, each going our own way:
Some stayed fishing on the riverbanks,
Others toiled the fields under sun or rain.
I took up arms and left home for the resistance,
But my heart, like the rain and sea winds,
Always returns to the river, filled with longing
And the image of my younger sister with rosy cheeks...

Today, I live in the North
I place my hand over my chest and hear my heart quietly call
The sacred name, "the South"
I can never forget the golden sunlight,
Nor the vivid blue sky.
I remember even those I never met...
There are days when I stand under the trees
And suddenly, a deep feeling fills me,
The image of the cool river of my homeland
Flowing gently, my heart like a stream nourishing the land.
Oh homeland! My heart, too, is like the river,
The love between the North and South flows as one,
No mountain or waterfall can stop it.
I will return to the place I’ve always dreamed of,
To the waters of my homeland,
To the river of love and affection.

Author: Tế Hanh

When you weave me a warm sweater
The wind still blows through your cold hands.
The birds search for each other, sheltering their wings,
The sky is full of clouds, the sun’s rays weakly falling.

You hurry to weave time with red threads,
Afternoons pass without rest, nights stretch long.
The yarn smooths out, while the threads of my heart twist,
The sweater is finished, and the cold is gone.

You send the sweater, worried I might be upset,
But I, receiving it, feel awkward, not wanting to burden you.
As a worker, there’s little time for myself,
At times, work makes it hard to focus on personal joy.

The flowers are sparse at the end of spring,
The branches now full of lush, dark leaves.
March arrives with warm sunny days,
But suddenly winter returns! The cold of Nàng Bân.

In the past, Nàng Bân sewed sweaters for her husband,
And once the sweater was done, the cold vanished.
Nàng Bân wept, and the heavens, feeling her sorrow,
Sent the cold back, answering her longing.

I wear your sweater and feel,
Your loving hands warming me double.
Time understands our hearts, doesn't it?
Where there’s love, there is always the cold of Nàng Bân.