MUSING ON THE OLD SCHOOL           

How strange, oh, this is the street corner perhaps! 
I suddenly realize I have just got back from Elysium:
The school... only a remaining wall... going to collapse,
Some coconut trees droop as if to cry, dull and dumb.

Teachers, friends, girls, boys, black board, white chalk,
Copybooks, blue ink, writing/learning Classic Chinese.
Teaching even half a word is a teacher, how to balk?
I would keep in mind my whole life, the sense to seize.
 
They were so beautiful those school days, that dear past!
The old beloved images faithfully return, each cheers.

White long split dresses waving in the evening vast,

To make my sensitive soul sad to the verge of tears.

Clear the time dust to retrieve of yore the fragrance!

Break up the mind mirror to smash sky, shatter sea!

Where are old days' Nha Trang people, life, pleasance?
How morosely I miss you, sempiternal souvenirs in me!