THE TRAIN WHISTLE
There is a railroad
not far from where I dwell;
The
night train
wails within
listening distance.
Its
whistle in
my remembrance
recalls well
My dad’s eager dream throughout his existence.
At
least once
he yearned,
by his
ardor urged,
To
ride an
express train from
South to
North,
Right
after the country
from hostilities emerged,
To
revisit old
beautiful sceneries
henceforth.
Alas!
one day
he deceased,
still discontent,
Leaving
behind the modest wish yet not come true.
But,
were he to live unto this day
of no consent,
He
would feel
each night more
grief so
undue.
What
is on
earth that
exceeds the
irony bitter
If
not that
upon the
end of
firing and
dying
The
crowds had
to rush and
seek refuge hither,
Crossing
the risky oceans, any dangers
defying?
Here,
I have
been longing
and will
still wait
For
a glorious
return from
this exile
line,
For
his sake
to realize his reverie,
though late,
To
contemplate again the landscape
in the shine.
Yes,
to admire
the divinely
splendid country
Where
ancestors’ d drawn swords since foundation
Setting
bright examples
of national
recovery
To
dutiful heirs
of that
non-severable nation.
But,
there each night
the train whistles and wails
Since
the railroad
is close
to where
I reside.
As
still wheels
are rolling
on chill
steel rails,
Its whistle rends my heart with nostalgia inside.
Vietnamese poem by HỒ MỘNG THIỆP
English translation by THANH-THANH