Top 15 Beautiful Poems About Childhood

Returning to Childhood

Author: Duc Huong

I return to my childhood
Leading cattle and cutting grass by the riverbank.
Studying while walking along the dike
Flying kites, filled with joy and fascination.

How could I forget, at the age of ten
The river's water was so clear – never tiring of swimming
We raced to dive, splashing under the bridge
Emerging with shrimp, fish, a whole catch – rejoicing.

In the morning, we ate cold rice, sesame salt
The fields above, the rice paddies below, never stopping our steps.
Many days, no full meal
With fish, crabs filling the basket – roasted on straw, fragrant and warm.

Months passed, the golden rice fields
Mother's sweat poured... golden rice filled the storehouse.
So much rice, but never full
I gathered fallen grains, carrying them home.

Mother praised: Well done, my child!
This Tết, Mother gave me a set of clothes.
Blue pants, brown shirt
Spring came, I went to school – so happy!

Childhood fades, never to return
Until I look back – almost seventy.
Wandering through foreign lands
My beloved childhood smiles and follows me.

Hanoi, My Childhood

Author: Dung Bach Kim

I have loved Thuy Khe Street since I was young
Childhood memories are filled with nostalgia
Teacher Van's warm, deep voice taught me to read
Learning to pronounce A, B ... in primary school.

During recess, we would run around
Head to the square to buy a few cents' worth of sucking snails
The girls gathered around, listening to the sounds of the snails
Oh, how delicious those snails were!

Those were joyful times, do you remember?
Summer came, with the red Phoenix flowers in full bloom
The cicadas sang loudly in every narrow alley
Laughter echoed, carefree skipping and jumping.

In '64, the Americans bombed the Capital
I was just over nine, evacuated to Hung Yen
My hometown, Phu Cu, was filled with endless green fields
The vast land and sky, with fragrant sticky rice.

Time passed and I turned fifteen
Leaving my father's homeland, I returned to Hanoi
Thuy Khe Street, I had long awaited
With my schoolbag in hand, I eagerly went to school.

The sound of the bell reminds me of the love I hold
The Lapho Hill train stopped at the station
Memories flood back, full of tenderness
For the rest of my life, Hanoi will always remain in my heart.

Grandma!
Author: Phan Thuc Dinh

I’ve written hundreds of poems
But none has ever captured Grandma’s image
Mother’s mother, how could you leave us?
Riding on the wind, flying endlessly, never to return...

Every time I leave the village
Passing the old alley, my heart overflows with memories
The silence outside, yet inside I quietly count
Trying to find where Grandma sat, grinding rice or paddling the boat...

I wonder when it started...
Did Grandma know how to use poetry?
When we spoke or when she rocked me to sleep!
In March, Grandma sat, full of concern
Fearing her little grandchildren would go hungry
When Uncle left home, Grandma would even mention it in her dreams
Every meal always had an extra bowl
Before eating, her lips would hum, "Come eat, dear! Mother has saved some for you." On harvest days, Grandma would kneel by the field
Picking up grains of rice, muddy, mixed with dirt and stones...
She went to the riverbank, quickly washing the rice
Waiting for the sun to dry it on the bamboo mat...

I remember how her feet, worn from a thousand journeys
Carried the weight of many wartime seasons
Her thumb always sticking out like a symbol
Red from washing the village earth countless times.
I remember that night when Grandma left us!
The cold bit through the skin, so the villagers went to bed early
And Grandma fell asleep, forgetting the spring had come
When I returned, Grandma... was a haze of incense smoke... Painful!

PTD.

BINDWEED FLOWER
Author: Phan Thu Ha

Surprised by the purple petals
Where did you come from, to this place?
You stir my heart with unease
Taking me back to a time of innocence.

Bindweed replaces the hair ribbon
With its delicate, chicken-tail like shape
The little one walking to school in the countryside
Chased by a butterfly fluttering around the flowers.

The pond's bridge wobbles in the summer heat
The fish leap in the shimmering village pond
Because I loved the color of the purple flower
Some children sneaked away from their naps, wandering aimlessly.

Playing games of bride and groom
Bindweed flowers make beautiful flower crowns
The purple color replaces the wreath of laurel
Making the young bride look lovely and charming.

The purple color of that flower stays forever
Though time has long passed
Today, I unexpectedly meet it again
And realize it has never truly faded.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
Poet: Hoang Minh Tuan

Childhood is forever yearning
My childhood, I will never forget
Childhood, that magical age
Childhood, back then, spent with family.

My childhood, my mother's green hair
My childhood, a thatched roof in a poor village
My childhood, struggles and climbs
Childhood, just my mother helping me through it all.

My childhood in folk songs
My childhood by the well, the banyan tree, the village square
My childhood, a lovely ferry crossing
Childhood, bidding farewell to my family to go far away.

My childhood, tears of homesickness
That childhood was so different from today
That childhood, so innocent
But now, childhood is no longer naive.

Childhood, both then and now
Everyone yearns to return to their childhood!

The Tree in My Grandmother's Garden
Author: Doan Kim Oanh

In my grandmother's garden
There are many trees
The children come here
Grandmother shows us, look
This is the star fruit
With five petals so bright
Up high above
Mangoes hang low
The areca tree stands tall
The flowers smell so sweet
The fruits grow in bunches
Saved for offering to our ancestors
On nights when the child sleeps
The wind whispers softly
Telling stories of the red-billed birds
Coming to eat the sweet star fruit
The sun dances joyfully
In my grandmother's garden
The sweet scent drifts afar
And during the season of ripe jackfruit
The pink roses bloom
In the corner of the yard
The child picks flowers
To give to her mother
Then goes to nursery school
To receive a good kid certificate
The child runs in circles
Excited, showing her grandmother
They both laugh together
So happy, so happy
The child already knows
She loves her grandmother the most.

WRITING FOR MY CHILD

Author: Da Quynh

I can't give you the entire blue sky
But I'll bring sweetness and nourish the seeds
The path you walk and the feet that carry you
Even when it's rough, I'll be by your side, no matter what.

Your dreams, I place a pillow, cover you with a blanket
Your innocent age leads you with new hopes
Ahead lies the vast ocean, the endless sky
The sunlight shining bright on all your dreams.

Having you in this world, I write these verses
Even with burdens, tired shoulders carry the load
Your childhood fragrant with freshly baked treats
It's like the evening commute, quickly reaching dinner time.

Your gift to me is fragrant pages of poetry
Perfect grades and a bright, joyful smile
The flowers you press into your notebook
The waiting, as you grow over the years.

I don't dare wish for great things for you
I don't dare ask for you to achieve fame
Because in my heart, there is something eternal
It's the story of my life, which I've written in poems.

Da Quynh

CHILDHOOD
Author: Tran Duc Nghia

In our childhood, we let go of the kites
The wind carried away memories of distant afternoons
Our childhood mornings, like the full moon
With our mothers singing lullabies, oh how they ring...

We called each other to play hopscotch
Playing tag, shooting toy guns, pretending to herd cows and catch goats
We chased each other, shared jokes, and made promises
Skipping rope, fighting, dividing into teams to show off our skills.

At night, we hid from our mothers, admitting our mistakes
Our backs stung from the switch, tears staining our cheeks
Sometimes we skipped school, sneaked away
To the fields, catching snails, playing marbles for money.

Then we returned to our dreams, full of wonder
Wishing to buy a ticket to visit the land of childhood
Whoever goes, please stop by
Childhood is filled with sweet dreams.

MOTHER

Author: Tu Uyen

Seventy-five stormy seasons have passed
Mother's hair now carries the grey of salt and dew
Her love for me is counted by the years
Her love for father, she traded her whole life.

I grew up with lullabies in her voice
White storks flew through the land of memories
Her frail shoulders, awake through endless nights
She held me close through gentle dreams.

In me, mother is forever a goddess
Guiding my steps along the long road ahead
I wish I had time to count down
To bring back my childhood, just for a moment... oh, dear mother!

Tu Uyen

BACK TO CHILDHOOD
Author: Ngo Quoc Viet

Let me turn back time
To the land of memories, those long-gone days
I remember school days, rainy weather
We wore banana leaf hats, returning home together
Some of us frozen in the cold
But we were still joyful, as if it was a festival
In the morning, we'd shout to each other
"Tèo, Tí... take care of the buffalo, you guys!"
Don't forget to bring water, fill it up
In the distant fields, we worked from dawn till dusk
We chased butterflies, flew kites
Made dams, caught fish, picked fruit to trade for ice cream
Childhood was calm and peaceful
By the golden rice fields, next to the straw-thatched house
Childhood wasn’t about competing
It was a life of simplicity, without the race of the world.

LONGING FOR THE DAYS OF OLD
Author: Lan Thanh

Isn’t the house a gem, my dear?
The humble house in our village still feels the wind
To the western paradise, clouds at the doorstep
Golden brown light flickers in the temple yard.

I left the village with old dreams
Leaving the fields, leaving the footsteps of the oxen
Yet the memories with you I still carry
On the dike where we cut grass and flew kites.

How I remember the first time I fell in love
Embarrassed by words, tangled in awkward silence
I wanted to say I love you, but hesitated and stuttered
The wildflowers remained in my heart, tender and shy.

Time passed quickly, I have returned
The familiar house, the temple roof still there
The village has now turned into a town
The dike where the buffalo once roamed is now covered in asphalt.

I searched for the wildflower I used to know
Only the wind and clouds rustled in the air
Now there are hotels and busy streets everywhere
The scent of rice straw is gone, replaced by city smells.

Thạch Thất, please keep for me
The old well, the banyan tree, the village yard
The local boys and girls gathering for fun
Sweet songs of folk music, the dance of the traditional fans.

Longing for the days of old.

I call: My dear...

I GO TO SCHOOL

Author: Đỗ Hương

Following the enchanting sound of the melody
I make my way to the V3 building
Music fills the air, a world of dreams
The "Letter to Elise" echoes within.

My heart beats with nervous anticipation
I knock on the pale wooden door
A smile, warm like sunlight
Quickly melts my worries away.

We line up along the straight wall
The guitar greets me with its chords
The notes playfully tease me
My eyes grow dizzy with excitement!

Teacher Hùng is so kind!
Not at all too fancy
All it takes is a little effort
And success will follow instantly.

"Lesson 1" just requires reading music
Stretching the fingers wide
Placing my feet on the stool
The guitar embraces my hand.

"Twinkle, twinkle..." the strings hum without keys
I familiarize myself with the few strings
Learning which finger plays which string
And immediately, the song "One Little Duck" is born.

It turns out, the hands are magical
It turns out, music is beyond words
It carries our souls far away
"Teacher Hùng truly is amazing!"

MY CHILDHOOD

Author: Nhẫn AV

I often remind myself to write verses
About the land of my childhood, the place where I grew up
Where the fields swayed in the wind
And at night, the moon cast a poetic light accompanied by the sound of kites.

I often think about my dear small family
About my father, who endured many hardships in his life
The one who loved me with all his heart
Now, only his memory remains in my heart.

My father's life was as difficult as lime
Living in the countryside, poor throughout his life
His life was full of hardships and storms
He never saw me grow up into the person I am today.

I often remember the endless sorrow
That my mother faced, her hair turning gray
Her life was a long, exhausting journey
Her struggles felt like they wove the very fabric of spring itself.

I often recall the hardships faced by my older brother
The one who had to grow up too soon
Our father passed away when he was young
And my brother had to take on the responsibility so early.

Those days were scarce in food
In the mornings, I went to school, in the afternoons, I herded cattle, gathered rice
At night, I studied late under the dim light
Many times, I fell asleep while studying.

But those days weren’t all about sorrow
There was always joy to be found
Who could ever forget those childhood days
That now live on, undying in my heart.

My childhood was early mornings
Hands filled with sweet potatoes and fruits
Hurrying to school while the fog covered the roads
On rainy days, the mud clung to my feet.

My childhood was lying on the ground, blowing plastic straws
With my friends, dust swirling around us
Our clothes were dirty, not washed for days
We chased rats after the harvest was done.

My childhood was the moments when we broke open beehives
With swollen faces, yet fearless
How many times did my mother spank me
But never enough to make me learn!

My childhood was the days of herding buffalo
Spending the New Year's money on gambling with snails
When mom found out, she prepared the rod
And I knew, there was no way out.

My childhood was nights spent fearing ghosts
And begging my grandmother to tell us ghost stories
Going to study groups, yet still afraid of ghosts appearing
The roads were pitch dark, no electricity like today.

My childhood was sneaking into the movie “Bai Vi _ Di _ O”
Every time it aired, we rushed to sneak in
We found every way to avoid paying
And I don’t remember how many times I was caught and chased by my mom with a stick.

Summer afternoons, hiding from naps to catch birds
We used to pick berries on the empty hilltops
Went to fish in the fields under the blazing sun
The June days back then were so different from today.

My childhood was full of anticipation
Waiting eagerly for the end of the year, for the Tet holiday
Such joys that words can hardly express
Eating delicious food that was a special treat.

Oh, those days were so cherished
Those memories cannot be captured in words
Despite the poverty, hunger, and labor
There was so much joy that today feels like a distant dream.

I have grown up, and my hometown has changed
The joys of the past are now gone
The fields that once were there are now plots of land
Used to build houses where we once played.

The hunger and poverty have nearly faded away
No more seeing those thatched-roof houses
Yet I still long for the days spent by the fire with my grandmother
To rekindle the memories of those long-ago days.

The Path

Author: Bùi Minh Tửu.

The path of my childhood is so dear.
It’s nothing but a nostalgic memory on a faraway shore,
The betel nut trees casting shadows in the autumn moon,
With clear waters where fish dart, catching bait in the pond...

The sun was my companion,
And I still long for the red phoenix blossoms,
The house that was newly built,
Innocent and bright until the day...
How could childhood know... the bitter and the sweet?

The path was bright when I was twenty.
Like flowers blooming - the laughter echoing,
Bees and butterflies lost in golden dreams...
And verses of six-eight rhythms danced in the afternoon breeze...

The white stork silently in love...
The scent of wildflowers and muddy ponds...
With each step I took into the age of fairy tales.
Sweet dreams of love by the warm evening night.

The path of those days, I still remember fondly,
Spring of youth, content and calm inside me.
Time brought its storms and trials,
But I was the one who carried the sunshine, walking through... that very path...

Return to Childhood

Author: Ngọc Minh

Take me back to my childhood days,
Take me back to the dreams of long ago,
Where the stork dived by the pond’s edge,
And my mother’s lullabies drifted into my sleep.
Take me back to my childhood days,
Let me roam free, tending the cattle by the riverbank,
Reclining on the soft grass by the dyke,
As the wind carries the sweet tunes of the flute in the air.
The red phoenix blooms in the evening sky,
The schoolyard fills with the sound of youthful voices,
We crossed the same boat, year after year,
With teachers guiding us with care and wisdom.
In the summer nights, the moon rises above the mountains,
And my mother’s lullabies still echo within me,
Her gentle hands rocking the cradle,
As she sat beside me, singing me to sleep.