Home Poetry The wind writing on lotus leaves – Bouquet of Poems from Vietnam

The wind writing on lotus leaves – Bouquet of Poems from Vietnam

The wind writing on lotus leaves – Bouquet of Poems from Vietnam
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Pham Thi Phuong Thao

Pham Phuong Thao - Vietnam (1)Born in 1959 in Lao Cai, she is member of Vietnamese Writers’ Association and Vietnamese Literature and Art Association of Ethnic Minorities. Her 16 literature books, including poetry, prose, memoir, children’s poetry and bilingual poetry, have been published. Pham Thi has won 5 awards for poetry; she is champion of Slam Poetry co-organized by the French Embassy and the International Institute of Francophonie in 2018; second prize for Vietnamese – English bilingual poetry collection “Love as the last one” in December 2018 organized by Sun Flower-book Media and Book Company.

The wind writing on lotus leaves!

Remembering the past summer

The autumn hair is still attaching on a lotus leaf…

Remembering the warm seasons

Autumn returns in its cold breeze of the green sticky rice …


Our Hanoi

The wind pens

Writing green on the leaves


The wind lulls me in the distance days

The characters burst to fly

Like birdwings that do not get tired

The wind is not willing unwittingly…


The wind buds call the autumn on leaf eyes

And who’s singing deep in the distant seasons?


The dew eye

Beautiful, sad, glittering and transparent

Drops of night are still existing on eyes of the leaves!

Raising the autumn drop in hands

Touching the distant seasons…


Sweet autumns

Happy autumns

Suffering autumns 

Bitter autumns…


The dew eye is suddenly bursting

Blooming drops and drops of flowers!


The dew pond!

Remembering the lotus, remembering Tay Ho pond

Remembering the look of an old afternoon

This season, the lotus calls for autumn

So close yet so far away!


Passionate wind breeze

Blurred, dreamy eyes

Autumn coming in August, the season cherishes the green sticky rice

Next to the old lotus leaves, still fragrant by the green sticky rice


The lotus call autumn

Drooping leaves

Wilting stalks.


In the middle of the lotus pond

Melting a bud!


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Ha Noi!

Greening me by a dream of leaf arch

Co Ngu shirt is gently covering on autumn

Sleepless night in Dong Xuan

Long Bien arms hug tightly the bank

The wind of Red River bends the old dike


The dew awakes up all night at Truc Bach Lake

Not just thirty-six streets

The chaos and pain of Ke Cho

Thang Long long hair, willow falling in the past …


Ho Guom eyes tonight

I smile in the cold

“Hanoi thousand drops of night melting…”

Fragrant alstonia scholaris are full of dilute dew color

The wind slowly chases footsteps of cyclo riders…


They carry full of the night

Carrying the desires of four directions

Carrying all four seasons through the sunny and windy Red River

Ho Tay lotus love those who drop the fragrance of green sticky rice in early autumn

And the young girl smile blows continuously since summer

From a flower seller carries hardship all the time

Landing on the poetry page…


Hanoi is near

Dark purple night by lagerstroemia floribunda

Hanoi is far

Keep loving and remembering

Hanoi is you, the early thunder of the season is very young

Hanoi is me, clearly autumn eyes smiling


Hanoi, thousand years

Sedimentary Thang Long soul

Tonight suddenly bursting

Moving joyfully


Your river!

Season by season with much alluvium

Full of delta in the heart

The river stays young forever

My eyes are left open…


Embracing the whole delta

Listening to the sang river

Shoulders are full of windy in the afternoon

Leaves lull the fluttered season…


Young trees wave to greet

Hanoi, the season of blue leaves

The wind kisses Long Bien Bridge

Listening to the passionate river season


Don’t say goodbye

Tears flow inside

The bank is still blue green

The bridge is still connecting to the line!


A very clear autumn

Waiting for the yellow sunshine, new green sticky rice

River shadows, quiet streams

Your river season is far away!


A poetry dedicated to autumn!

Chasing the birdwings away

She sketches the afternoon by the winds

And whose singing voice so close…

The woman in love with autumns!


She draws old hands

And autumn fingers are still passionate the warm

Drawing a gentle autumn breath

And whose eyes are hot, so close…


Autumns passing, bitterly and happily

Warm and icy

Only the singing remains!


And in heart, autumn rustles the fallen yellow leaves

She silently watches the autumn beginning to change to new clothes

The wind! it is still blowing so sweet…



Only remaining transparent autumn drops

Quietly falling!


The sound of dawn

Awaken me was the countless sound of birds chirping

The symphony echoes the mountain and forest

The sounds tear off the dew behind the door

Chip Chiu, Chip Chiu, birdsong, so far

Thousands of drops of vermilion are wet and transparent in the early morning…


Like yesterday

The flock of birds sang together as if never sang before

The concert without a conductor

No need anyone to listen

Then they all fly away

The beauty resounds to the horizon…


In me, growing thickly the highland thorny grass

Looking up at the cliff

No trace of bird left

Only remaining the desires to fly freely.


Resounding in me

A lonely sad song

Resounding passionately and anxiously…


The flock of birds have incarnated on the mission of dawn

Only the last birdsong

The sound of the bird leaving its choir

  Attaching on the day

Pain like a bite…



Sunshine jokes

The opposite way

I pass


Poetry season



Sad hair…


Autumn cold breeze

Sunshine shirt covering

Season of love


Poetry sunshine


A road

Far away…


Many seasons

Yellow sunshine

In me


Night hair



Drunk lightly…


The compassion

Dispelling a little bit

Autumn cold breeze





Drunk fingers                        

Season is coming


Poetry sunshine

Life is busy

With passion?


The loneliness

Is proud

The way back

Only me!


A view of Da Lat city of Vietnam

Da Lat – Autumn and I!

I am

In sunshine dress


Cloud towel

Covering Da Lat!


Is tender


Sunny eyes

Misty hair…



In Da Lat


White cloud

Overflowing the mountain town


Pine hair

Falling down with the sky…


The color

Of Da Lat



The green swan!

I glance to the pond

The green lotus dress is shadowing

Slim legs

Imprinting on the waving background

The green swan on eyes of the season…


The female swans hidden on the poetry waves

Tiptoeing in the lotus dance

Sunset with red water shadow

Lotus lips are pinking…


There is a swan in a brown dress with blue eyes

Sparkling with the pond

Watching the couples holding their hands

Drunk with old lotus season

Forgot my age…


The green swan

Gliding on the lotus pond at night

In the dance of the cestrum parqui

In an impermanent life

Am I existing or lost in an illusion?


Getting off the clothes

Lotus hair or night hair?

The green swan is still gliding on the water shadow

Ho Tay leaves every trace of the moon

Waking up to call for the green season!


The limit

Early morning

Sounds like waves on the street roofs

The old woman

The fingers passionately caress the time

The piano resounds like a stream


White hair

The wool scarf falls freely

Soft hands glide over the keyboard

Resounding the human love songs


The music

Opening up a new day

The street

Opening up a horizon


Can’t hear the passing footsteps

Nor can’t see the sound of yellow leaves falling

Only the sound of chasing on engrossed fingers

Drawing in space…


And the limit

Is all unlimited things.


When the flow is not water

Listen to the sound of streams

Sing the song of the forest

Whispering thousands of years of gravel life…


Listen to the river

Floating alluvial drops

The sand rhythm of thousands of years of sediment…


Listen to the sound of white waves crashing on the shore

The ocean epic lasts endlessly

Thousand-year tidal dance melts into the wind…


I hear the sound of streams, rivers and ocean waves

The flows are flowing through the space

Resounding the song of the wind, the sunshine, the gravel, the sand and the waves…


There are underground circuits that still pass through the time

Endless reincarnation continues of the life and death

The beauty of withering and blooming and glittering under the moon…


In the depth

The flow is not water.






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