Top 20 Beautiful Poems by Poet Nga Le

Poem by: NGA LE.

I send you, my wife, from far away.
A gift for March 8 from the border's mountains.
The purple Sim flowers of longing.
Missing Mother, missing the little ones, missing you.

Your family struggles, working so hard.
You balance responsibilities, always fulfilling your duty.
During the day you're teaching, at night you're busy.
With Mother, with children, and preparing lessons for tomorrow.

You nurture the future generations.
Of this country, and of our own children.
With love, I fulfill my duty.
So our homeland can stay peaceful forever.

For a life filled with the color of green.
For our happiness to always be complete.
The purple flowers from the frontier, full of love.
Simple yet deep in meaning and affection.

The sun and wind don't fade, they shine brightly.
That’s you, my dear and loving wife.

March 6, 2020.

Poem by: NGA LE

The rain falls as if it were fire within my heart.
So I wait, watching each passing hour.
Has the rain ever fallen this way?
So I wait... hope... long for the rain to come!

I pray... the wind blows, and the clouds drift.
Clearing the gloom... bringing the sunshine.
When I meet you... your lovely smile awaits.
Your eyes sparkle brightly... lips soft, waiting for someone.

Chasing away all sorrow.
Like a kite caught in the wind... like someone meeting their love.
Even though it’s not dawn.
The purple sunset still holds a passionate love.

The moon wanes and sometimes it’s full.
When you love, even the thin moon is loved.
Despite all the heartache.
The sunset feels more precious than the rising sun.

Poem by: NGA LE.

They love each other, across the distance and longing.
For one reason—two distant skies keep them apart.
At the border, as dusk falls, the sky is clouded.
The ancient forest, shrouded in mist, stands in quiet awe.

The hills are filled with blooming Sim flowers.
Smoke rises gently from the thatched houses.
The lonely frontier post, as night descends.
The phone, a lifeline, connecting us together.

We meet, and joy explodes within us.
I tell you stories from the borderlands.
Those late nights, with the moon at the mountain’s peak.
Do you know how much I miss you, my dear?

Outside, the mist falls softly, silently.
Each time we meet, my love for you deepens.
Your eyes, and your lips, oh, they haunt me.
Half waiting, half teasing, my love.

I miss you so much, but the distance is too great.
Here, there are still struggles and hardships.
Our country still needs you there.
If you love me, please wait for me.

When I return, we will weave our love into poetry.
That love will forever shine like the bright moon.

March 1, 2020.

Poem by: NGA LE.

I walk barefoot, carrying my Mother on my back.
The slippers are unstable, afraid they might cause her to fall.
For a century, she has raised me with such care.
Carrying my Mother around is no trouble at all.

Life has brought so much sun and rain.
My Mother carries the weight on her small shoulders.
She raised all of us through hardship and struggle.
Saving every bit for her children, from her own food and clothes.

Our home is poor, but full of warmth and love.
My Mother's love flows endlessly, like a river.
We grew up in that embrace, protected by her care.
My Mother's back bent with time, oh how I love her!

So, whenever I carry her to play,
I feel the warmth of her love surrounding me.
When one day she’s gone, far from this world,
This memory of her will stay in my heart forever.

January 3, 2020.

Poem by: LE NGA.

The vast waters of the Huong River.
The drifting songs, lingering in the heart.
The boat floats... drifting through life.
Trang Tien appears, fading... letting go of the songs.

The sound of the zither, soft and dreamy.
Your voice like a breeze, drifting far away.
The melody embraces my soul.
How deeply it stirs me... a time of love.

The moon hangs crookedly through the mist.
The poem hat left behind... brings sorrow to someone's eyes.
I miss you so much, Hue!!
The flowing purple áo dài... urging me to return.

My heart... quietly whispers love for the homeland.
The distance of sun and rain cannot fade our bond.
Hue is the poetry of my soul.
Hue is everything... a world of longing.

Poem by: NGA LE

The woman at 60.
She often hides her sorrow behind closed doors.
Her time is running out, not much left.
To love and remember all that has passed.

A long journey of fleeting years.

Her tears have almost run dry, as her heart weakens.
She no longer expects anything ahead.
She walks quietly until the end of the road.

Her heart no longer beats with love's excitement.

Love is now priceless to her.
She lives through rainstorms and hardships.
To rise above all the injustices.

She smiles quietly, comforting herself.
Youth has passed, and sixty years are enough.
At sixty, she has nothing more.
Except for the silent sorrow hidden in her heart.

She no longer seeks anything.
She accepts what is left of her life.
So each evening, when the rain comes pouring.
She feels her heart is a sunset.

Poet: NGA LÊ.

I am silent as Wuhan suffers its grief.
Day by day, sorrow upon sorrow piles up.
His homeland struggles to resist the storm.
The epidemic rages, claiming so many lives.

He was about to embrace happiness, so near.
But he set it aside, plunging into the battlefield.
The future wife, the beloved unborn child.
And the red letter of invitation never reached anyone.

This battle is harsh, my dear.
He could not stop, for many had fallen.
The sacred duty of the white-robed ones.
Saving lives, even if it meant self-sacrifice.

Don’t be sad, my love, our story isn’t over.
When the storm passes, we’ll welcome happiness.
But I fear, my love, I can’t believe it.
We’ve been robbed of it before the mission is complete.

Fight on for me, my love.
Join the ranks of the white-robed heroes.
So that when our child grows up,
It will be proud of its father.

February 24, 2020.

Author: NGA LÊ.

He held my hand just before parting.
Backpack on his shoulder... a bright smile.
Stamped on his hat, a symbol of love.
With sad eyes, bidding me farewell.

War, like a whirlwind, took him away.
Gone forever... never to return.
Sometimes I receive his unfinished letters.
At night, in the army, he wrote hastily: 'Darling, please!'

A wild Sim flower, pressed and given to me.
It remains in the memory book, untouched.
The purple flower of endless days.
Waiting... longing... and missing him.

With me forever, his memory lives on.
And today, I stand in Trường Sơn.
The afternoon sun tilts, and cold mist falls.
Our heroes rest here, silently in peace.

Do you know, my love, that our country is at peace?
Your blood spilled, never in vain.
I offer incense for you and all of them.
Each one... each one... your sacrifice touches my heart!

Our country has changed, so much over time.
Your sacrifices have shaped it.
The song of "Catching the Girl" still echoes in the air.
The sound of cicadas in the forest resounds loudly.

Now, this afternoon, I stand in Trường Sơn.
That purple Sim flower... forever etched in my heart.
I dedicate it to you, and to all the heroes.
And the memory of this afternoon will stay with me forever.

Trường Sơn, October 2017.

9. WELCOMING SPRING 2020.

10. YOU.

11. DREAMS.

12. WAITING.

13. SPONTANEOUS NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS

15. A PERSONAL REFLECTION

16. THIS AFTERNOON IN THAT LAND

Poem by: NGA LÊ.

At Bến Đục, stepping onto the boat.
Drifting along Suối Yến, as beautiful as a poem.
The mountains reflect on the water, as the boat moves back and forth.
It feels like being lost in a dream.

Lightly stepping towards Đền Trình.
The air is filled with the scent of incense and the sound of prayers.
I kneel and offer a prayer to Buddha for blessings.
A stick of incense representing a pure heart.

Next stop, Thiên Trù, heading to Giải Oan.
The clouds wrap the mountain in a misty embrace.
The sound of prayers echoes in the air.
Wishing for peace and prosperity for the country.

I enter the sacred Buddha's hall.
Asking for relief from life's struggles.
All the hardships of the human journey.
May Buddha's compassion save us all.

“A Di Đà Phật…” A joyful greeting.
Familiar or strange, it’s all the same.
All beings, Buddhists, are like family.
The air is filled with the sounds of laughter and joy.

The path is rugged, but we continue.
The pagodas are so many, I lose track of their names.
The Non Nước landscape is like a dream.
Leaving the mundane world behind, entering the realm of Zen.

We approach the main cave... a voice echoes.
Without hesitation, we climb, moving with determination.
Like the Kiến River flowing down into the cave.
We feel small in the vast surroundings.

The cave opens up, revealing a vast sky.
The Gạo Hill rises tall, surrounded by golden and silver trees.

Time slips away, with quiet moments.
The Milk of the Mother, a blessing for health.
With open hands, we seek her strength.
Forever together, in peace and harmony.

Standing side by side, the Cô and Cậu mountains.
Those seeking blessings for children may ask.
Touch their heads and pray for good fortune.
Cô and Cậu will guide you to success.

The incense rises, filling the Zen space.
Prayers for wealth, luck, and love.
Buddha's blessings for all.
In this place, one feels as though entering the realm of immortals.

At the start of spring, I embark on a pilgrimage to the Hung Temple.
Though the journey is long, I am determined.
I yearn to visit this sacred site.
To find peace and leave all worldly worries behind.

Written on January 16, 2019

Poem by: NGA LÊ.

This poem I write for you tonight.
The winds have changed, is the distant island cold?
The waves are still crashing against the white sand shore.
As if to comfort the yearning of love.

Closing my eyes, I see so much.
The sea and you, along with the seagulls.
The midnight moon also strolls the shore.
Following you along the smooth sandy beach.

The waves whisper endless stories.
All the emotions you send through the wind.
Back on land, I stay awake with you.
The hospital is home until the epidemic is over.

Your comrades and I, night after night,
Determined to reclaim everything for the people.
Your friends endure so much hardship.
The camp beds serve as places for warmth for the people.

The nation is in danger, yet our youth stands strong.
We share the weight of responsibility for our homeland.
After the storm passes, the waves will calm.
I’ll welcome you back to see the blooming Phoenix flowers.

Written on March 14, 2020.

Poetry by: NGA LÊ.

The Vietnamese warship sails through the vast ocean.
Waves and storms batter the ship, causing it to tilt.
Haiphong, please don’t worry too much.
For we have a skilled Captain at the helm.

This is not the first time our nation faces a storm.
Trust the steady hands of our Captain.
And this time, when the storm approaches,
Let’s remain calm and united in strength.

Each of us has a responsibility when our country is in danger.
Let’s join hands to build a strong defense.
It’s a reminder we must all heed.
Avoid close contact and don’t forget to wash your hands.

Remember the lesson from Wuhan, it’s still fresh.
Don’t be careless and bring upon a disaster.
My homeland lies by the great sea.
We are familiar with storms, so what’s there to fear?

With COVID-19, let’s help each other.
Overcome everything for peace to return.
We trust in those at the helm.
They will guide the ship safely to port.

Haiphong, once again, shines in these verses.
As summer comes, the Phoenix flowers scatter along the streets.
Ships come and go, filling the harbor with life.
The horn of the port sounds, welcoming the beauty of blooming flowers.

Haiphong, March 9th, 2020.

Poetry by: NGA LÊ.

Waiting for March to arrive, bringing sunlight for the poems.
Waiting for the red hue of Mộc Miên to bloom.
Waiting for your return, filled with love and longing.
The pure white of the grapefruit flowers waits for the wind to rise.

March brings countless wonders of nature.
Plants thrive, blossoming and bearing fruit.
March comes with the crescent moon shining high.
Fruit-laden branches sweeten the days of Spring.

You still remember the white grapefruit flowers.
The fragrance wafts through your hair, warm and soft.
Your eyes still follow me through the years.
And I search for your image, those days long past.

You didn’t return in time for March.
As you promised when we parted.
Seasons keep changing, drifting far away.
But my heart remains devoted to you.

The military steps march on, night after night.
That promise stays unfulfilled.
In the distant borderlands, with so many thoughts.
So I must break my promise to March.

But trust, my love, the day will come.
I’ll return to you in the warm embrace of Spring.

March 5th, 2020.