PoetryWorld Literature

The Ideas – The Poetry from Vietnam

Pham Van Anh, a poet from the land of Blue Dragon shares her five poems

Brilliant and bright

Walk on my foot

Walk on earth’s eyes

Walk through life and try

Not to miss any single catch of reality

Walk among the taste of regret

And the hope as well!

Pham Van Anh

Poet Pham Van Anh, is Major and author, born in 1980 in Vietnam. She has Master’s degree in Political Science. She is Member of Vietnam Writers’ Association, has published 11 books of prose and poetry and got 8 national literary and musical awards.


The Ideas

Like the nocturnal species

Quietly take root on life

The ideas hurriedly erode

The call splashed on the night



Hanged between empty ideas

I fumblingly argued

That moment

Feeling in the feeling spoke up

Called the name of life


Brilliant and bright

Walk on my foot

Walk on earth’s eyes

Walk through life and try

Not to miss any single catch of reality

Walk among the taste of regret

And the hope as well


Life proven

By the light

By my body



b1Water Theater

“Do I have to introduce myself out of here…?”

Mr. Teu* sends out commotion in the middle of the village’s pond

An old lotus season wafts the urban

Steadily gilds the farmland of Van Giang


There the pass, a peasant in black lacquer with the farming buffalo

Miss Chang Chang in vermillion picks up strawberry raises silkworm

Here the husk smashing, here the scene of fireworks

A countryside’s rustic piece that satisfies the inner eyes 

Such fine aroma afternoon


Lai Oc (**) in spring

Crier puppet knocks on the past

Crier puppet calls future in

The artisans that soaked in cold water

The village’s artists whose ten finger tips stained of alluvial

Passionately scouring strings, pushing sticks

Tell the visitors stories of all around 


How delightful the senh phach*** beat

Quivering water theatre


(*) A famous character in a Vietnam traditional water puppet play.

(**) famous water puppetry village of Long Hung commune, Van Giang district, Hung Yen province

(***) – The beat of Vietnam traditional instruments


Talk to each other

Flickering waves

Seagull sounds echo and pin on the waves

Like the bell-maker


A bell hanging on the tree

Tree sings…

Song about the harvest

About the bare footprint laying on the ground

And the morning plow


Talk to each other

By the wind sound the rain sound

Of the era born out of waves’ root


Talk to each other

By the sound of earth that silently cheering

Try crystallize like salty salt on the field


Night’s face paints day’s face

And our faces, along the bell, vanish

Lucky though, for there still a hand that tight

Brings water into the desert of heart.


On the Summit of Sadness

A hoot of an owl fades all along the skyline

I hear sadness rises to the summit

Want to fly, yet night dense

Want to flow, yet water surges

Just the tear profusely hurt like a cut

Sun blazed, promise broken,

Droplet of sunlight broken into dead leaves,

Aftertaste of a death day hanged on a cold frame


Strain every single cell transforming DNA chain

Transform the day return spirit to sadness

As the leaf falls it returns its spirit to the earth

To whom do we return the spirit?

To whom?

Keep on hoping that the shoulders are lighter

And the low note strands in the brain

Stop vibrating the praying chakra beat


A buffalo boy carrying the far-coming wind

Seeds of cabbage turnip wave their fertile leaf’s ears

Insects’ words cultivate the poor paddy field


Why listing out examples

Here, there’re only grey cloud, grey stone

And my dead body is turning grey

Giving the sun a sky burial amid high ground

I’m falling so fast

The throat ached the frigidness of a needle sting,

My heart ached the voice of my mother calling me words of the bloodline, the voice of he who calls me words of the lover.

For I’m exhausted and won’t get up again

Just the sound of wheel squeezes on the steel rail

Dashes to the black space

Calling no name

Not a single flash of late-night lamp.


Sudden Inspiration from ‘Al-Buraaq Wall’

Earth’s crust is a thousand trenches

Listen, magnetic is kicking words that echoed

Decimated conscious of a million souls turns into rage

Could not stop displaying terrific scene

Who would have thought the place of which the capital lies is a battleground where dead air has not disappeared

Who would believe in such deep forest there lies a whole radiant reign


“Al-Buraaq Wall” carries inner human’s determination

Astonishing ksana of birth and demise

Bewildered of the visible, the invisible

Where the Gods were in tormented bible verse

Story of Gaza strip make us utter

What if…

There exist what called peaceful Religion


Oh fragile hands just meant for wiping tears away

The “common reed” diplomacy that gives up land to avoid conflict

Oh vegetarian Ramadan months of ongoing retaliation

70 years of trembling cannon sound and onwards

Oh 12 Zodiac

Nebulae gives way to artificial constellations of star

Spits on the sky the bloody fireworks

Arrogantly shows off nuclear power on people’s life


Gaza strip could not decide its own fate

The nations are still wandering on a pilgrimage in search for Homeland

Regain faith and pride of their kind

Journey to the grave

Could not stop but seizing and tearing …



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