PoetryWorld Literature

Slow Motion – The Poetry from Vietnam

Tran Ngoc My, a poet from the land of Blue Dragons shares her three poems

In the middle, green leaves and flowers

The world of smile illusion

Probably the most beautiful moment in life

The time we walked hand in hand on the hill!

Tran Ngoc My

Tran Ngoc My, a poet from Vietnam was born in 1985 in Hai Duong province. Now she is living in Haiphong. She is a member of Vietnam Writers’ Association and has published 7 books of prose and poetry.


Slow Motion

Trying with these photos

Let return slowly time

When did we start falling in love?


Where the sun rises

Thousands of sprouting lights

Two figures side by side

Leaning on each other and thinking about the brilliant road ahead


In the middle, green leaves and flowers

The world of smile illusion

Probably the most beautiful moment in life

The time we walked hand in hand on the hill


Quietly blowing wind

Light walks

Airy memories as clouds


Flying photos

Or am I delusional or infatuated?

Coaxing each old piece


Hmong Children - Photo Courtesy Vietnam Online
H’mong Children

*H’mong Child

My airy childhood 

Flying with kites high in the cloud

Father’s arm as the cool sky

Mother’s heart as the filled singing sea


I was sitting here


Up and down day and night under the waterfall top

H’mong child piggybacking firewood in burns

Her skin smeared with its mountain soil

Busy feet with the journey to make a living

Calloused fingers by cobblestones

Untiring chirping voice

“Buy me, buy me, buy me…”


H’mong child running around

Replacing father to hunched over

Replacing mother to pat warm chest

Where hidden her childhood?

Sound of birds calling innocently on the grassy hill

Wild flowers drinking dew that red blooms

Fresh as angel’s smile

Wishing to put in her lips


I sit here looking at unfamiliar faces

Half way back to barefoot childhood

Only different my body begging alms under rain and the sun

Where for children play

H’mong child

H’mong child

Looks cut the parched heart.



Father walked through the sky of smoke and fire

Wound was not just bullets in body

Every night memories come back from a thousand distant stars

Firing field!


Ooh Ooh dream

Tearing explosions

Mournfully scary covering people’s feet

The rolling earth with blood everywhere

Illusion faces

Father’s voice scattered in the forest

Hand holding tightly a portrait

Just yesterday, teammate lay beside

Talking about that girl


War was painful and cruel

Love was broken before it yet begins

 Not only the July sky with heavy rain

The heart aching against the painful stream

Many, many young people who gone far away


Many, many separations that have not been said goodbye for many years

No trace of bones

Where did father’s teammates go in a second?

Haven’t come back yet, daughter?

He asked many times, months, years…

Stars remained in painful silence.


*H’mong people are an important member in the community of ethnic minorities in Vietnam with about one million people, ranked 8th among 54 Vietnamese ethnics.


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