Top 15 Best Poems About Mountains and Forests

Who brought the ban flowers from the forests of Northwest

-Nguyen An Binh-

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
The weather has shifted into winter,
The ban flowers no longer bloom with fragrance,
Only the golden wild daisies burst into bloom.

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
Listen to the wind as it sings through the pine hills,
Hear the trickling streams and rivers,
Drink Cần wine and fall into a rosy dream.

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
The mountain girl still has rosy cheeks,
Her shoulders bear a load of flowers and herbs,
Carrying the love and longing in her heart.

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
The morning in the mountain town still lingers with warmth,
Not as bustling as the city streets,
Just streetlights faintly flickering in the cold wind.

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
Let’s come… and warm our hearts,
Let’s come… and wait for the mountains and forests,
For someone who is still filled with longing.

Will you come to the mountain town with me?
Why do you make me wait so long?
The town feels empty without you,
Come back… let’s ease our longings together.

Author: Vu Nhu

It is said that: The Cloud and the Mountain fell in love,
Long, long ago in a time far back,
The Mountain loved the Cloud deeply,
And the gentle Cloud also loved the Mountain dearly.

The Mountain sweetly embraced the Cloud, never letting go,
While the Cloud softly sang love songs with the Mountain.
The Mountain spread its broad shoulders, waiting patiently,
To protect the one it loved so much.

But as with all things, love is like the dewdrop,
It rests on a leaf and vanishes with the sunlight.
One day in the deep, dense forest,
The Cloud, in a fit of anger, followed the Wind and drifted far away.

The Mountain, feeling sorrowful, searched for the Cloud everywhere,
Asking everyone, but no one knew where it had gone.
The Mountain silently missed the Cloud intensely,
Blaming itself for not being able to stay with the Cloud.

The Mountain, filled with melancholy, longed for the Cloud,
But the Cloud, far away, was unaware.
So, my dear, is there any love that is truly eternal?
When fate ends, we must part ways.

Nam Dinh 09/09/2021
Author: Dinh Thu Trang

Meo Vac is so cold, my dear,
The rain falls, and snow blankets the entire land.
These past days, travelers from all directions
Have filled this place, bringing joy and warmth.

The thick snow is chilling, yet captivating,
Plum and apricot flowers are covered in frost.
Come, let me offer you a plate of roasted yam,
The smoky flavor mixed with the mountain's scent.

Pickled plums with a hint of ginger,
The mountain breeze and forest scent infuse every spicy bite.
The simple fragrance of the mountains is intoxicating,
And I yearn for the day you arrive.

You call my name, my love,
Do you think our love will endure?
My wealth is but a single branch,
A snowy orchid from the mountain, gifted to you with sincerity.

The snow falls, sparkling like precious jewels,
Like the shimmering eyes of a beloved—please don’t leave yet.
This snow is pure, like crystal,
From the plains to the mountains, we are one, my love!

Minh Thanh

In the morning, the majestic mountains of the Central Highlands,
There is a lake, a soulmate, right by your side.
Your eyes, painted in the deepest blue,
The dew on the grass sparkles like the light of love.

In the afternoon, the Central Highlands flaunts its charm in the sun,
The lake whispers softly, speaking words of love.
The sound of the Nung flute echoes in the distance,
While the river’s melody dances through the rocks in the breeze.

In the evening, the Central Highlands kisses your cheeks with warmth,
The wind lingers playfully, teasing the clouds.
The lake sings its love in a gentle embrace,
Making the moonlight smile in the place where love blooms.

At night, the Central Highlands ignites with passion,
The fire crackles, fueling our desires.
The beat of drums and gongs calls out to the stars,
The sea of love, my heart already belongs to you.

Author: Kim Minh Chau Nam

Will you come to the Northwest with me?

The plums ripen, their red hue matching the lips of the mountain girl,

The flowers continue to bloom passionately along the small paths,

With her cloud-like hair, she asks if you'll visit.

The peak of Pha Luong is now quiet, without the falling snow,

The pine hills have turned green, filled with hope,

Come back, so the rice fields can shine golden,

Your smile will ripen like fruit, heralding the end of summer.

Will you return? I'll meet you, my beloved,

The old market, where we once missed each other,

Now reconnects, rekindling our past love.

Come back to the Northwest, in the season of love.

Come, will you visit the Northwest, my homeland?

Where the cities lack the bright streetlights,

But the mountains and rivers stretch endlessly,

With the mournful sound of the bamboo flute echoing through the forests.

Come, witness the blooming orchids,

Blossoming in the heart of the vast Northwest.

Let us enjoy a humble meal of wild greens,

As the evening breeze gently sings a love song.

Come, visit the distant villages,

Where small houses peek out from the landscape,

Children’s laughter fills the air,

As the sunlight softly touches the eaves of the wooden homes.

Come, take in the enchanting scenery,

By the gentle stream, where the mountain girl resides,

Let her hair flow as the afternoon sun casts its rays,

It’s a beauty you can’t miss... will you come?

The mountains unfold like a grand embrace, with rivers weaving through their paths.

The misty clouds and the gentle breeze guide the way.

I remember you in every corner of the Northwest,

The rolling hills echoing with love, forever returning.

The Northwest is the fire that lights up the night,

It’s the fragrant rice cooked with love,

It’s the wine, each drop filled with emotions,

It’s the green that blankets the endless skies.

The tall mountains and vast forests wave with open arms,

The peaks await the arrival of those who climb.

As I travel up the Black River, I’ve changed,

But the Northwest blossoms silently, still calling your name.

As winter arrives, the Golden Daisy blooms brightly,

Coloring the mountain paths with its radiant beauty.

A humble flower, yet it captures the soul,

As we travel the roads of the Central Highlands.

The flower is graceful and gentle,

Like a maiden smiling in the wind.

On the mountains and highlands, the red earth shines,

Filled with life, like the untouched grasslands.

It stands strong on the dry, rocky ground,

Even as the cold wind chills the air of winter.

Still, it remains lush, with vibrant leaves,

Its yellow bloom coloring the entire winter season.

Will you come to the Central Highlands with me?

To see the Daisy bloom in the season of its glory,

To drink the traditional rice wine, Y Miên, from the past,

And dance together by the flickering firelight.

The sound of the drums echoes through the vast mountains,

The shy gaze of the Ê Đê girl captures the heart,

Leaving me mesmerized at our first meeting,

Even as the wine runs out and the fire dies, the enchantment remains.

You arrived in the Highlands on a windy afternoon,

The trees were lush and the mountains grand and vast.

The festival was vibrant, shining in a beautiful display,

The scent of rice wine mixed with the sound of the drums.

By chance, I met you, the young maiden,

Performing a dance by the flickering firelight.

Our eyes met, and you blushed shyly,

My heart fluttered, longing for someone I didn't know.

Though it was our first encounter, we were both awkward,

Your smile was bright and shy, gentle and reserved.

Like a mountain flower, not flashy or bright,

But exuding a soft fragrance in the open air.

I said goodbye to the red earth of the Highlands,

Yet my steps faltered as I left, feeling hesitant.

Perhaps it's because I will miss you,

How could I forget you after just meeting?

As we part, I feel a lingering feeling of longing,

Waving goodbye, but unwilling to turn my back.

Come back to the Northwest, my beloved,

And watch the spring flowers blush with color.

Gaze at the drifting clouds that surround the mountains,

Hand in hand, we'll stroll through the village streets.

Your Ao Com is bright and full of grace,

Your dress flows down the mountains, endless and vast.

Let’s sing together to celebrate the Spring festival,

Sending more joy to the remote villages.

At the Xòe dance, we'll clasp hands again,

And exchange the dreams we shared in the beginning.

Our Spring dance, a promise of love,

As we share the tender bond of betel and areca nut.

Just a little rice wine to make our hearts sway,

We drink and celebrate the full cups of Spring.

When I return to the southern plains tomorrow,

I'll forever carry the memory of this place in my heart.

You are the emerald mountain,

And I am the soft white cloud.

We share a deep, loving bond,

Between the vast skies and earth below.

The mountain leans and stands firm,

Shielding the winds of the great forest,

While the distant clouds can’t bear to leave,

Resting gently beside the mountain in peace.

As the sunset fades behind the mountain,

The clouds lower and gaze in silence,

The late sun lingers with a hint of longing,

Leaving behind a trace of memory along the hillside.

Autumn arrives, and the leaves fall gently,

The flowers collect the cool dew drops,

And in my heart, I keep a memory true,

Forever carrying your image with me.

I will take you to the Northwest, my dear,

Where endless forests meet the vast blue sky.

Where birds flit through the branches, chirping cheerfully,

And wildflowers scent the air by the cool, refreshing stream.

Let’s climb the mountains in the Northwest together,

Where, in the evening, the market glows with colorful fabrics.

A Dao girl smiles shyly beside the stream,

And the mountain girls of the night market are as beautiful as flowers.

Come to the Northwest when spring arrives,

And see the Ban flowers bloom, turning the hillsides white.

The fire crackles in the forest as the night festival begins,

And the Xòe dance flows like a river, graceful and free.

Come to the Northwest to gaze at the golden moon and emerald mountains,

And remember the story of our ancestors, Mother Âu Cơ,

Who led her children to the highlands to build a home,

Turning wild lands into bustling cities we see today.

Come to the Northwest, where the mountains remember and the forests love,

Where the rice wine flows like the purest love of old,

Though far away, we are never truly apart,

Just as deep as the bond shared by two lovers!

Come to the Northwest, come with me, my dear!

Let’s live simply, surrounded by mountains, water, sky, and clouds…

Just like when our parents first met,

Where the bitter betel nut mixed with lime creates a sweet, strong bond!

Come to the Northwest and live joyfully together!

-Collection_

Floating through the clouds of Tam Dao,

The weather changes with the four seasons each day.

Winding roads and misty mountain passes,

Mesmerized by the untouched beauty of the mountains and forests.

*****

The majestic mountains stretch on,

Here lies Dai Lai Lake, there, the region of Tay Thien.

Could it be that nature herself sculpted these lands?

Or were the ancient people the ones who built the Dong Pagoda?

*****

The vivid colors of the gown highlight her rosy cheeks,

And the mountain breeze whispers through the trees,

Enigmatic and magical, Tam Dao floats in the clouds,

Captivating travelers, who are intoxicated by the forest's fragrance.

Xuân Huyến

Spring has arrived on the mountains,
The forest wears a coat of flowers,
White mist stretches across the streams,
As someone's footsteps pass by.
***
Fresh new clothes shimmer brightly,
The fragrance of your hair carried by the breeze,
Which wind gently pushes you along,
As the warm sunlight dances, causing a daze.
***
I met you on a small village path,
A teacher, gentle as a deer,
From Dong Nghe to Suoi Nanh,
Flowing along the Da Giang River.
***
The sound of a flute calls in the distance,
While the horn of a friend echoes a greeting,
From Muong Chum to Ban Ha,
The intoxicating smell of sticky rice fills the air.
***
Nature weaves beautiful landscapes,
While you craft words that shape lives,
Spring has arrived, full of love,
The teacher from the distant land.
***
22/01/2023 - First day of the lunar new year (Quý Mão)
Poem: Song Sỹ