elegy
Where
is the terminal end
For
my heart to stop nostalgia that would extend?
From
Mom under the thatch roof who lulled me;
From
her breasts that fed my body in glee;
From
the girl on the riverside who tried silk yield;
From the yellow moon over the fragrant
rice-field;
From the highland hamlet fest with
flickering fire,
Gongs and drums' echoes from forests that
aspire;
From the somatic source to the sacred soul
With thousands of streams thro my nostalgic hole.
Never
will ever cease my longing for
My dear motherland deep in all my exile's
life core.
There is nowhere the terminal end
For my heart to stop nostalgia that would extend!
Translation
by THANH-THANH