They say Vietnam is a war-torn country,
For decades leading to the 20th century,
Firearms never ceased.
Perhaps Her beauty was a curse in disguise
For it attracted unwanted suitors and led to Her demise.
They took turns drinking from Her nectar
Ripping and stripping Her bare
Injecting vitriol that scorched Her skin,
Vying for Her jewels and leaving Her in despair.
Yet Her familial love set aflame their ambitious tides,
Her quest for freedom reigned above all
When at last they let her be.
Left behind were only their lies—
Her civilization left unfulfilled
Her soul split in two
Her frame disfigured and destitute.
But like a chim Lạc[1] She rose,
Unwavering and briskly.
Where Her blood once flowed
Now flow rivers and streams
Now providing for Her children.
Vietnam is, indeed, a war-torn country.
But did they know about the spectacles She holds?
They knew —
How Her mountains leave onlookers in awe
As if testament to Her might and resolve,
How radiant Her oceans glisten before the morning sun
How Her forests nurture a vibrant tapestry of diverse wildlife
How Her caves conceal both mystery and tranquility
How Her rice terraces form a mesmerizing patchwork of green.
I am this war-torn country.
The smell of my grandmother’s cooking,
The aromas of phở that’s ever so evoking,
The colorful pieces of fabric that twirl among the wind,
The swirl of motorbikes in the streets of Hà Nội,
The familiar faces that greet me with delight,
The mother language that feels soft and light.
When they say that Vietnam is a war-torn country,
Remind them of what She has become.
Remind them of Her rivers and streams
Remind them of Her mighty mountains
Lush forests with a thousand shades of green,
Remind them of Her people’s delight
Her aromas of phở, mother language, and motorbikes,
Perhaps then they’ll see, with eyes anew,
How they have mishandled a being so delicate and fair.
————————————————————————————–
[1] Vietnam’s mythical national bird that represents the Vietnamese spirit and ancient culture
