O my father!
(to my father's soul)


Now you were walking on the road to the Eternity
Your karma, your anxiety belonged to the past
You rode the clouds
You rode the winds
to the Elysium
like the day in the past you used to do that
The wound inside your body just turned out nothing
When you got hurt, you kept the pain for yourself
(people liked to share when they got hurt)
Your pain was handed to your children
No money could make you feel relieved
No medicine could help you become better

Eight months after the day your wound was checked
One month after the day we took you up to Ma Gia graveyard
They gave a war-wounded 's book to mother
She read
the blurred words in front of her eyes:
Mr Nguyen Van Hung
Ward Q.Y…
If you could return to life
Just for once
To see…
Your money of blood  
Then you could go away lightly
But…
Oh, come on!
I knew you never blamed anybody
(what did you blame them for?)


The road which you had walked was not easy
(all of the roads in this life were not easy)
But there were bombs and bullets on the road which you had walked
And, fire and smoke was all of the sky and the ground
We were – the seeds
tried to live
tried to be green.

The girl you had loved
Now she is my mother
our mother
Hung, Tuan, Ha, Ban, Linh, Van Bang, Bich, truong, Nga, Khanh… 's grandmother
She cried
until there were no more tears.

72 years ago when I hadn't become a dust yet
Our family 's small sun just rose up from the ground
You were born.
And from that day on, o my father!
Our village
bursted out the sound
"O" in the morning, "A" in the afternoon
You had a life of joy, sadness, happiness, and misery
with your children, your grandchildren like the buds and the flowers.

In your funeral
no one remembered your name – a war-wounded of the anti - American war
The Head of our village kept on repeating:
"He was – a farmer
a brave man
a comrade
a human-being…"


One of my classmate sailed the boat
The paddles made sound in the imaginary river
stirred the souls
stirred the deserted regions
Some coins were thrown with our true love to you
Quietly we took you on the trip  
The sound of crying was very sad
Above us
the grey clouds floated slowly and hesitatedly.


Which fellows of yours came to say farewell to you?
Which ones had stayed in the old battle field?
Which ones now had an easy life?
Which ones felt leisured?
Which ones were pure anh upright?
Which ones lied to every body?


You followed your ancestors to the warm and cold region
We called your name in all of this world
Then, father, did you still remember
the sound of your music equipment
in the nights were full of moonlight.


2006


Cập nhật: 20/1/2008