Back here I have come  
After over thirty years home away from.
Mom absent, the old way lost in the whirl.
The once Ken Hamlet girl

With dim eyes and grey hair,

About her personal affair
Remembered and forgot in confusion.

Back here I have come. No illusion.
The former street has changed its name.
I held your hands all the same
Like I did those days we were on a date;
Your hands shook blate
In the past by love but now by cold, true,
The setting sun couldn’t warm the dusk dew.


Our fatherland land:
Have had too many changes to stand    
Mother and sister.

Except that the blister
The street corner’s loud speaker
Is the same as always a squeaker.

After nearly forty years
Garrulous, loquacious, verbose to all ears,

Still broadcast forever, never calm,
The Voice of Vietnam.

Democracy, Liberty: none!
Only said never done.

I have come back to make good.
As an old tree catching wind of agarwood
Dabbling a little in bits of liberated life
You listened to me while evil is rife
Smiled, looking forward with a gleam…
Empty-handed to act: to sell one’s dream!


Democracy! Liberty!  (blah)
Down with! Long live! Hurrah!
Forbidden merchandise

Only to look, contemplate, for one’s eyes

Not allowed to touch let alone to hold.

Hats off for a salutation vague and cold.

Independent to be
You must be free.
To be free (not hypocrisy)
There must be democracy.
To be democrat
You must renovate the old life flat.
How many years to expect in whole
For a mummified body to have a soul?

Back here I have come
With deep feelings for our country glum.
Just cause is not from US or Europe smart,

But it does exist in your very heart.

Aspiration so far arisen urging to perform

Like a storm

Has been lying in the earth profound.

So long in wait to stoop you were bound.
Now, raise your head, look up to see

Millions of eyes in glee

Are seeking one another in a world wider:

Start off! No longer remain an outsider!


Translation by THANH-THANH