1. THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER
Poem by Bùi Thị Quế Anh
25 years ago today
My mother bird flew away, far from me
The four little birds were still young
Lost in confusion, unable to grasp life's truth...
Yet, 25 years have passed
25 years since the little birds lost their mother
Oh, how time flies so quickly!
It continues to stretch the emptiness within me...
25 years, the little birds have grown up
Now they know the vastness of life
They have seen the stormy seas
They have come to understand the bitter salt and ginger...
25 years, does mother know?
I still hold onto your shape in my heart
I still remember the days of my childhood
The image of the white stork soaring over the village...
In March, when the sun shines and the rice fields turn green
I, the dragonfly, fly far with the wind
The white storks return to the field's edge
Calling mother back to the memories of childhood...
March 26, 2017

2. CONVERSATIONS WITH MY MOTHER
Poem by Bùi Thị Quế Anh
Mother!
Your daughter is now a mother too
She has experienced the pain of childbirth
And felt the overwhelming joy
When her child was born into the world.
Your daughter is a mother now
She sings the lullabies you once sang
Here is the river, here is the cool breeze
Here is 'The stork goes to welcome the rain...'
Your daughter now understands the struggles you faced
Carrying burdens all year long, tirelessly day and night
You were frugal even when you were sick
To save the best for your children to eat...
Your daughter now stays up late at night
Watching over her child, worrying about every fever
And the longing for you surges, sudden and overwhelming
She quietly calls out: 'Oh, my mother!'
Your daughter now loves you more than ever
Back then, you fed her meal by meal
Now, with abundance, you are no longer here
The smoke of incense lingers faintly, where are you, mother?
From ancient times to the future
A mother's love is an immeasurable spring
'Only by raising a child can one truly understand the heart of a parent...'
The old song that never grows old!
B.Q.A - 26/3 - Missing Mother!

3. MOTHER'S DEATH ANNIVERSARY
Poem by Bùi Thị Quế Anh
Twenty-three years have passed, and though my mother has left this world,
She is still here with me...
She walks with me every step, every day...
I still hear her laughter and her voice...
Twenty-three years, life has changed so much
The village is no longer the same...
The old thatched roof is gone
Shaking in the cold winter wind.
Twenty-three years, how many nights I wake up,
My tears wetting my dreams...
The mother stork sitting beside her four young chicks,
The house leaking, the children dry, but mother soaked!
Twenty-three years, how can I forget!
Mother would rock us in the hammock on hot summer afternoons...
Her frail figure carrying the bamboo pole,
Her bare feet walking through the muddy fields...
Twenty-three years, it feels like just a blink of an eye,
The baby storks are now grown, flying far and wide,
Carrying with them the dreams of mother from long ago!!!
26/3/2015

4. THE WINTERS THAT HAVE PASSED
Poem by Bùi Thị Quế Anh
Mother, that winter!
The mustard flowers bloomed brightly by the riverbank
The bamboo carrying pole creaked under its weight
Mother's shadow loomed over the fields!
I remember that winter!
The chill wind blew fiercely
The bamboo hedge rustled
Mother laid straw for me to sleep on.
Oh, the straw bed of my mother!
The fragrance of fresh rice still lingered
Each straw was filled with her love
Gently warming me through the cold night...
I remember that winter!
The pond, mother washing dong leaves
The green leaves floating on the water's surface...
As a child, I always looked forward to Tet
To watch my mother wrap the rice cakes
She would bring firewood for the stove
The smell of smoke would linger in my heart!
Mother, that winter!
It stays in my heart forever...
Suddenly, I silently wonder
When will I return to those old days?
6/1/2020

5. I ONLY MEET MY MOTHER IN MY DREAMS
Poem by Bùi Thị Quế Anh
Now, I can only meet my mother in my dreams
In that place, there is a sunlit field
In that place, the storks are pure white
And there are lullabies that echo throughout my childhood...
I can only meet my mother in my dreams
Every evening, I run to the edge of the alley
Mother comes home from planting, her smile shining bright
Her feet covered in mud, her arms holding me close...
I can only meet my mother in my dreams
The bamboo poles swaying in the cold evening wind
There, the figure of my mother fades into the distance
The dragonfly flies backward, confused by the breeze...
I can only meet my mother in my dreams
The sharp pain returns in the cool evening breeze
Mother endures through the night, quietly suffering
She holds back the pain and softly hums a lullaby...
I can only meet my mother in my dreams!
One day in March, the red flowers fell
The sky was not raining, yet storms filled the air
The kite snapped its string, lost in the world...
An Khánh, March 15, 2018

6. LET ME RETURN TO MY GRANDMOTHER'S VILLAGE IN THE PAST
Poem by Bui Thi Que Anh
Let me return to my grandmother's village in the past
The gentle, cool Nhuệ River flows quietly
The bamboo groves hum a soft melody
The coconut trees sway gently in the breeze...
Let me return to my grandmother's village in the past
The La village with its silken weaving traditions
The winding path filled with the fragrance of rice
Always bustling with the sound of the loom...
Let me return to my grandmother's village in the past
There, I see grandmother diligently working
There, I see mother focused on her craft
The silk bathed in the warmth of sunshine...
Let me return to my grandmother's village in the past
With childhood friends playing marbles and hopscotch
Barefoot, heads uncovered, chasing and laughing
Splashing in the pond on hot afternoons...
Let me return to my grandmother's village in the past
The small house with the sun playing on the roof
The sweet starfruit waiting to be picked
With the garden full of lively birds...
My grandmother's village has changed so much now
The village has turned into a bustling town
What once was familiar now seems so distant
Only memories linger, ever-changing!

7. A LULLABY FROM MY MOTHER
Poem by Bui Thi Que Anh
The lullaby sways softly beside the hammock
The scent of areca nut drifts gently along the threshold
The cat rests with eyes half-closed
As the child drifts into a peaceful sleep...
The lullaby of a summer night, wide awake
Summoning the breeze to cool the child's dreams
Calling forth the thousand stars that sparkle
And the moon high above the mountains...
The lullaby of a winter night, sung by mother
Warm and soothing, with salt and ginger
The cold north wind whispers through the bamboo
The lonely stork flies, wondering if it's cold...
The lullaby from long ago, sung by mother
Like the river carrying rich alluvial soil
Like the vast green rice fields stretching endlessly
It has stayed with me throughout my life!

