There are rivers

That sink into the reeds,

Not because they are muddy,

But because they don’t match the color of the surging water.

Do Han is a seasoned poet and author from Vietnam

Do Van Han was born in 1959, in Phu Tho province of Vietnam. His Pen Names are Do Han, Hoa An, LaHAN. His major published works include 4 poetry collections: Love for the Drop of Folk Song, Roads in the Mist, With Grass, and Poetry.com 14 Characters/Words. Seven short story collections: The Blood Letter, Tears of the Saint, Phom’s Stories; (Under the pen name LaHAN – Modern Humorous Short Stories). And 1 novel: The Deep Blue Lo River.

Nhuong Tong

(An excerpt from the epic poem about Nhuong Tong)

There are rivers

That sink into the reeds,

Not because they are muddy,

But because they don’t match the color of the surging water.

Even when the nation gains independence,

And the moon is not invited into the epic,

People tell stories of guns, stories of flags,

Few tell of a bowl of medicine,

Of a hand writing characters,

Of a quiet, persistent moon

In the years without war,

Only filled with poverty and loneliness.

Is there any storm

That doesn’t sweep away even the silent dreams?

Is there any song

That tells only of the moon and forgets the wind?

He stands within the storm,

Yet does not shout,

Only writes poetry of patriotism,

Only translates books of civilization,

Books from China, books from the West,

And books from his own country.

The characters glitter as if there were no war,

Though within his heart—

He still wears armor.

At times, a storm surged up in his heart.

Changing the singing voice, the deep note remained:

“Though my solemn vow is as firm as iron and stone, dreams across rivers and mountains are hard to find!

I regret every time I cast aside my pen, I beg sorrow not to borrow the needle’s path…” [1]

Whose sword is drawn amidst the tilting sky,

That within me, doubts are also awakened…

My friend—is like the wind, like a dream,

Words inciting waves, while the heart is twisted and tight.

Loving the country to the point of silence,

But I tremble for innocent, good bloodshed in vain…

On one side is the resounding drum,

I hold the light amidst the dark clouds.

[1] Excerpt from Nhuong Tong’s preface to *Ly Tao* (1943) and his other poems (written from 1931-1948).

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Read: Why raining – Poetry from Vietnam