Top 15 Best Poems by Poet Luu Quang Vu

Author: Luu Quang Vu

Old clothes grow shorter each day
Worn and frayed at the shoulders
But I cherish them as I cherish the memories
Held in the fabric, making my eyes misty.

Mother mends them, realizing how quickly I grow
She can no longer see clearly, but still threads the needle
The clothes I wear bear the stitch of her hands
The more I love them, the more I love her.

These clothes have been with me through the months and years
Though old, I still hold them dear
Reluctant to part with them for something new
For the longer the clothes, the older mother becomes.

We must cherish the old clothes
For in them, we cherish our mothers
We must cherish all that has been with us
Through the years that pass...

Author: Luu Quang Vu

Our street
The apple trees are blooming
It’s autumn
The bark is peeling off the trunks
The cobblestone path
Leans gently in the afternoon mist.

This year, the tomatoes ripened early
On the vendor's red stall
The seamstress is getting married
Now a widow
This year, I wear black.

The postman delivers a letter
He rings the bell
The tiny Ti-gon flowers
Fall all over the porch.

Meanwhile, the old carpenter sighs
Blowing smoke into the sky
The electrician fixes wires on the roof
The retired teacher translates books
Teaching her son French
All day, shouting: bông-dua.

Our street
Our poor street
Raindrops fall
On the branches, gently
The children run up to the attic
Blowing soap bubbles high in the air.

You wait for me by the gate
My sparrow
My fluffy sparrow
My sparrow from our street
Don’t be sad
The old carpenter is wrong
If life is all about sorrow
Why do the apple trees bloom?
Why is the stream so clear?
My fluffy sparrow
The carpenter is wrong.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

I'm only afraid it will rain

It erases your footprints from that day
The pillow loses the scent of confusion
Leaves on the branches are scattered in the wind.

The rain steals the light of the day
The path is hazy, with endless worries
I can't rest, my sleep remains unfulfilled
Human happiness is fragile under the pouring rain.

The old tune, the song from long ago
Our childhood was the gentlest place
Even as life changes and tires us
We lay our heads and listen to the lullaby of time.

But in my heart, I will never forget
I'm just afraid the rain will change the seasons with the wind
The trees and you will change completely
Your eyes will no longer have the same color.

I'm only afraid it will rain
And the old garden will break, branches will fall
Your clothes will be soaked, leaving me sad and crying
What will tomorrow bring for us, my love?

Author: Luu Quang Vu

You left, on a rainy street
Long roads stretched in silence
The evening door slowly closed
The flowers up high, drenched and gleaming
The station in disarray, with scattered bricks and broken trains
Do you remember the sorrowful years we passed
We walked through wild grass and stone paths
With the rushing white waterfall in our hearts
A love that we could never speak to anyone
It drove us crazy, choked us with pain
My face shattered in the mirror of disappointment
Where were you back then?
The small green chrysanthemums, dead for years
The street was cluttered with old coffins
The trash piles, the broken-down carts
The young friends have grown old
The city’s war-night was dark and silent
No lights, no lullaby, no fire in the stove
The park benches turned into wild beasts
They lay motionless beneath the dark moon
The bodies drifted on the waves, crashing violently
The bomb craters echoed with howling winds
We have walked a life full of suffering
Lost in countless illusions and hopeful dreams
But I still kindle a quiet flame
Your figure flickering in that fire
(Who in life has never dreamed
And has no right to judge those poems)
The waves of longing knock on the door, day and night
And so, you arrived, brightly into my life
Your eyes opened to the distant sky
But the warmth I hold is your hand’s warmth
You, in flesh and blood, are finally here
I waited so long, and at last, you came
Your breath, I knew it long ago
Your hair, your voice
You lifted me from the long path of grass
Like opening an undelivered letter
And love, it means hope
I believe in life’s meaning for lovers...
What ship carries that wind across the sea
There will never be a day of docking
Its destination is always ahead
It’s the horizon that will forever live within you.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

In that place, there is a hill covered with purple flowers
And a soft dirt path beneath our feet
In that place, there is a grove of ripening pomelos
And a little sister waiting for me to come home.

The summer sun shines bright upon the palm leaves
The birds feast on autumn chestnuts
The dry hay holds the ripe persimmons
The evening breeze carries the scent of white flowers like rain.

In that place, the stream becomes a river during flood season
It winds through the forest, flooding the reed banks
Early morning, plastic lamps light up, and you start the fire
The fog is thick at the doorway, and I can’t see you anymore.

Your face, your smile by the glowing fire
Wild fruits wrapped in a hat to share with others
In that place, the taste of young bamboo shoots is not bitter
The roasted cassava wrapped in bamboo still smells sweet.

The flowers bloom neither too early, nor the fruits too late
Spring doesn’t hurry, and winter doesn’t linger
Each group of leaves has a secret scent of the forest
The sunlight turns golden, with bees buzzing through the valley.

I’ve traveled many distant roads
Endless winters and summers have passed
Countless cities, towns, and vast cities
But that rural place still feels vivid in my memory.

If you knew all that I’ve experienced
The joys and sorrows I’ve had in my life
If you knew how much I’ve changed now
Would you still remember the days we spent gathering firewood on the hill?

They say: you too have changed
You have children in your arms, and you remember my sister
But it doesn’t matter: the autumn fruit is still ripe
The autumn clouds remain white across the horizon.

If you knew that I still remember
I am still the stream from the old forest
The cuckoo singing beneath the wild banana tree
The warm fire you made in the afternoon rain?

The wildflowers are still there, innocent and fragrant
They taught me how to share both joy and sorrow
The full moon rises from that place
The forest wind still blows through my soul.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

No one cares for us like our mother
And no one makes us feel more guilty than our mother does
Mother, if I could relive my childhood
I would never skip school to play again
The son who was stubborn and full of faults
Would never cause you such sorrow.

I wish you could stay young forever, like when you first met Father
I wish I could stay by your side forever
If you wanted some mackerel, I would dive into the sea without a second thought
If you needed bamboo shoots, I would climb the mountain without hesitation
But then, the Americans arrived in our land
And I, along with my friends, had to rise up to drive them away.

You cheerfully took on the hard work
The duties at work, for the Party, and for the home
Fighting the French in the past, and the Americans now
Used to hardship, you never worried about the weather.

Tonight, I lie in the distant forest, cold winds blowing
Has mother fallen asleep, or is she awake?
All her life, she has never had a moment to rest
My heart aches for her, and my anger at the enemy grows stronger.

She rarely speaks of her worries, always thinking ahead
Her loving eyes can see through all the distances
All the lies, the hatred, and the cruelty
Shatter before her kind, wise gaze.

Though life may be a long road
I will journey through every hill, every obstacle
With the strength of your footsteps, mother.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

Tomorrow, you leave
Leaving behind the room, the paintings
The old music player
The open book of Apollinaire's translations
The winds of Quang Tri
The ongoing battle
Two sides facing each other with guns drawn
Youthful sadness, journeys, and unspoken questions
The vast, sun-scorched land
Tomorrow, Nguyen wears his uniform, carrying his backpack
Khánh heads towards Phong, while I stay
The one leaving doesn’t know why they’re leaving
The one staying doesn’t know why they remain
The rainy night we stayed awake together in the café
The cigarette ember burning on our lips, words left unsaid.

In the early morning, a young man with a thick beard gets on the bus
No girl waves goodbye
Only two men, looking slightly dazed, see him off
Sitting to share a pot of tea at the crossroads of Cho Hom
We promised to write letters, but then we fell silent
The bus drives away, and Khánh suddenly hastily calls out:
"Be careful on the road
If you find yourself in a conflict, avoid it
So you don’t bring trouble to yourself."

The bus vanishes down the street
The grey clouds fill the sky.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

You stand next to me in the warmth of summer
Before we even speak our hearts
The sky bursts open with rain
The garden shudders in the tears of children.
Your eyes are moist with happiness
The rain cleanses the dust from your forehead
Your hair turns into a dark stream
The brass basins chime on the porch
The tin roofs roar with the deluge
Children cheer, horns honk loudly
The streets turn into rivers, rushing swiftly
The golden phoenix flower petals float like tiny yellow boats.
Carrying simple, wonderful joy
The rain extends far, washing away all worries
- Don’t speak to me, don’t speak to me
Of happiness, of the long, distant road
Don’t question the future, don’t hesitate
Don’t confess your love, don’t bring up the past
Just listen to the sound of the rain, the rain
On the brown earth fields, drenched and scattered
Drenched in laughter, in the plow, in the seeds of corn...

The walls of the houses wear a common robe
The fabric will bear fruit, the plums will ripen
The wet windows will become clear mirrors
Everything will be simple, sincere, and clear
On this land, once scarred by our struggles.

You raise your hand to catch the rain
Your hands like flower cups, like budding leaves
- Don’t look at me, don’t look at me anymore
I understand what binds us together
I understand what it is... Oh, the sound of rain, the sound of rain.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

You’re so mysterious, I both love and fear you
Even when I try to avoid you, I want to meet again
You seem so far yet so near
Sometimes proud, sometimes like a little girl
Carrying worn-out sandals through a strange forest
Full of mud and glowing fireflies
I love you so much it hurts
You understand me so well, but I hesitate
Your desires aren’t those of a typical girl
And they don’t belong to a boy
The sorrow hidden in the trees
Only you know
And I will never sleep
Like the autumn breeze
The vast sky, my love
Even knowing how far you are
I still want to hold you in my arms.

In a distant island, only the sea and sky
On the empty sands, you walk against the wind
At midnight, longing
Knocks on my door, calling your name
For the first time, I think of you completely
I can’t hide my feelings
Though I’m young, I have my flaws
In front of you, I babble endlessly
Embarrassed, fearing I sound ridiculous
What good is it? What can I do to change it?
The ship has already sailed, you’re far away
I remain a flicker of light on the platform
Why do I yearn day and night
Thinking of you, never at peace
Outside, the rain shines through the morning sun
Like flowers thrown against the glass
The streets are grey, swept by the cold wind
You leave and return
I remain shy, too afraid to speak
Haven’t you noticed yet?
You hide your worries with a smile
Disguising your vulnerability with sarcasm
You try to joke, but I feel the sting
I wish I had everything to give you
My dreams, my love, my first happiness
Give it all to you, please don’t stay away
So fragile, the lilac branch in the breeze
But my poems have become brighter
We’ll go to the countryside to see the vegetables grow
You’re as young and beautiful as when we first met
And I’ll have the enduring freshness of the earth
Speaking to time through the vibrant green grass.

Author: Luu Quang Vu

This road once had wild roses blooming
The old river was filled with white sails
Now it’s dry, overrun with sorrowful weeds
The ancient temples have crumbled
The old pagodas, wet with rain and covered in moss
Buried in the earth are the fragrant memories of the past
Oh, wild rose, the flowers died long ago
Now I return quietly in the second month of the year
You remind me of the old wild roses
Your voice bright like a small bundle of sunlight
Warm against the cold evening mist of the deserted temple
Ash covers my heart, where warmth has long since faded
You don’t know, but you unknowingly stir it up
And the wind blows around you, tousling your hair.
The flowers are long gone, fluttering away
Like dew trembling beside the path
Like flowers still blooming on the ground
But those flowers have spent their lives searching for spring and never met it
And I, my whole life, never encountered the wild rose
You, carefree, unaware of my sadness
Keep talking about those small flowers
Clusters of flowers bloom in the wind
But those clusters from days long gone have already died.