Bao Dinh Giang (1919-2005) whose real name is Nguyen Thanh Danh, was originally from My Thien Commune, Cai Be District, Tien Giang Province. Other pseudonyms: Nguyen Thanh, Thu Thuy, Van Ky Thanh, Nguyen Tinh Ha. Genre: Poetry, Short Story, Novel. Bao Dinh Giang came from a family of bankrupt landlords. Since 1939, he cooperated with Doctor Duong Tan Tuoi to found the Study Promotion Association of My Tho province. During the anti-French period, he was active in information and press activities in the Southeast battlefield. He has experienced the following positions: Deputy General Secretary of the Vietnam Arts and Culture Association, Deputy Director of the Department of Arts and Culture, Central Propaganda Department, Editor-in-Chief of Van Nghe Newspaper, Vice Chairman of the Vietnam Folklore Association, Chairman of the Vietnam Folklore Association. Ho Chi Minh City Union of Literature and Arts, Editor-in-Chief of Ho Chi Minh City Newspaper…we would like to introduce his beautiful poems.
- Poem: Sister
- Poem: Remnants of the Fatherland
- Poem: White clouds at Nha Rong wharf
- Poem: Country in Spring
- Poem: Thap Muoi Love
- Poem: Precious pages of a book
- Poem: Remembering the South
- Poem: There are springs
- Poem: A day far away
- Poem: My hometown field
Poem: Sister
Sister, sister
(In memory of Ms. Nguyen Thi Minh Khai, the glorious female communist party member who died in 1941, before the guillotine of the French Empire, after the Cochinchina uprising failed) Night in the cold wind Listen to the song ( winter)Remembrance of the previous year This season of common mourning Mother is the Motherland.My mother is suffering and my heart is long.My body is a drop of water.My mother’s gratitude is immense.I miss you.I will keep a heart.Death to repay the country.The revolution will succeed!Jail! how much humiliation the grip was as light as nothing She smiled in the cold, calm and not afraid pink!
My Tho, October 1945
Poem: Sister
Poem: Remnants of the Fatherland
Remnants of the country
Staying up all night long without sleepYearing to confide in dreamsOld Fatherland map! Earnestly
For thousands of years, a mountain and river.
This is Hoan Kiem Lake in the past, Thang Long Old Citadel, Turtle Tower, The past is still imprinted
A sacred sword that secures the king’s reign.
Who made the second river flow. Who worked hard to build Nui Nung? My grandson even if he divides the year
Cut the umbilical cord and bury vegetables, remember this place.
A stretch of Hoanh Son is stable for a lifetime, Passing through the fading yellow light of the car “Stop and look back at the sky and water”
The sound of the ancient hoes tearing someone’s intestines…
Whispering lines of Perfume with charming voice At night, remember the Nam Binh tune? The sound of the bell of Thien Mu in the ancient temple
Lay awake someone’s soul
The peak reigned in the afternoon when the clouds were covered with white, mourning a springtime, seventy-four thousand years old, confiding:
“The people of the galaxy are unconscious?”
Dong Nai water flows around. Embrace the village with so many love. Hundred years of “magnanimity” often gather
Under the shade of green coconut trees.
Water mixed with alluvium in the Mekong River Smooth green banks: immense rice Mango garden shaded our hometown
One minute of life, one minute of heartbreak.
This is the land of the land, reclaiming land, establishing a career, remembering the ancients, managing many tears and sweat
(Ten scenes of Ha Tien) cleverly painted!
Thousand miles of the country’s capital, four thousand years and one father, four thousand and odd years, the soul of the country
Know how much love, how rich.
Looking at the map and sobbing, I got more angry at the end of this time. Even if I die, I will die
Swear firmly and squarely on the land of Vietnam!
Poem: Remnants of the Fatherland
Poem: White clouds at Nha Rong wharf
White clouds at Nha Rong Wharf
See the color of the phoenix flower in bloom. The sky is high with the stars. The yellow sun stretches thinly along the street. The walls are white and new. The city is called the beauty of May. The road is ken by bicycles at work. shady.Growing up “Uncle Ho’s good grandson!”Love is all the years of bamboo shoots A dew, two suns of an aunt and an aunt’s heart Caring for a good nursery season The seed of the sower is now ripeTwo seasons of resistance close to fragrant Sweat, blood spilled without faltering Step by step Million spring flowers bloom under the flag! Breathe freely even for one day Love is warm and leaven intoxicated. Hundred years of escape from slavery The tongue is still numb and bitter! Thousands of miles are floating on Uncle Ho’s boat, washing photos doesn’t matter. cold night snow, Lenin’s red heart light the way back When children are old enough to go to school, the country is forever free. Four directions are proletarians and brothers. Thousands of miles of mandarins are one house. Earth and heaven can be happy again. “The way to happiness” at the end of the sky. The barking on the side of the road is still bright. we fly and flap the wings of a bird with Marx – Lenin, the green life, the sprouts of life, Falling so many yellowing colors, The will of each blood drips from the heart, Lots of love and affection sent to hundreds of regions Wearing the pain of young love, the breath has not forgotten. Magnificent building of Marx – Lenin Green in the lake of pearls, fragrant orchids, lilies Great for a life of one faith. The darkness has receded to the far corner. In May, the stars are shining brightly. Return to the old wharf to visit again. White clouds remember the old Uncle.
Publishers Association of Writers, 1999
Poem: White clouds at Nha Rong wharf
Poem: Country in Spring
Country in spring
Our capital is forever proud instead of the old Dong Da roaring elephants, now Ba Dinh cannons explode A mighty battle of the enemy swept the country’s hooves in spring, the drums urged the flag to fly!Hello Kon Tum, Quang Tri! Hello An Loc, Binh Duong!Hello every street corner! Greet every road Im million footprints of heroes to save the country Bringing the Ho Chi Minh flag forward!” The North and the South both fought well”The night of the march was fragrant with flowers From Ngoc Ha radiating hundreds of ways. pha.A Manifesto, a Will: “Can you hear that, fellow citizens?” clear a thousand later”Sweep it away!” The first victory is the victory of Uncle Ho! Our Central Committee, we often call it dear:- Big brother, Ba brother, Nam brother, Sau brother… Uncle’s side, you guys fight all your life, Our Party ! Amazing beauty! Every new bitter or sweet Winter is warm and spring rain drops: The road under our feet is cool, It’s easy to clean up the thorns once! Never stop until you win. The road is still long without asking for rain and sun today’s battle. The devil is still there, in front of him, behind his back… It’s raining today. I miss you dearly for the long night in the South! though a tree bomb destroys the face In the world Who is the most beautiful person in the world!
Hanoi, Spring 1973
Poem: Country in Spring
Poem: Thap Muoi Love
Love Tower of Ten
Who! Do you remember Thap Muoi Come here to find the traces of the ancients, far away… The copper lotus has bloomed now. The sweet scent reminds us of the gentle sun. Melaleuca trees shade the banks of the canal. Love for the country is immense. The soul is as happy as the sun and the green fields. alum clear glass
Deeply see the bottom of the farmer’s heart
Girls and boys are nostalgic for the moon season, Dancing adds to the spirit of the country. Hundred thousand bitter and unfading
The hearts of the people behind are iron-clad and one-hearted
Shocked, who can understand the end Still here, but it seems to be far away Tomorrow the country will sing
The canal bank of the rice field has me by my side.
(The days of preparing to receive a job in the West, 7-1949)
Poem: Thap Muoi Love
Poem: Precious pages of a book
Precious book pages
Polish girls and boys visit the cemetery of Panmiry today!Children! Who are the people lying there? Is it your own benefactor?
– Are not! Those of you guys!
Children, look at this: The tombstones of each grave have no date, In space and time endless They live forever; The pine forest is as big as blowing, each time it rings like their singing The sun rises early this morning as bright as the sun. They laugh. They are the Conscience and Honor of mankind. They – thousands of people – have a beautiful common name: Poland An is a South Vietnamese native. His hometown has been nine years of hard work chasing the French invaders. -Killing his loved ones is very exhausting. The South – where his vegetables are buried -Millions of people are standing up. The old woman with white hair also holds a stick and throws it at the enemy’s head. All are not afraid of falling. No fear of crime. Prisoners Only Afraid Of Losing Their Freedom Children! Those who are resting here before their fall They don’t ask for anything for themselves They just remind everyone: “It’s easy to talk about Poland, it’s easy to work for it, it’s hard to dare to die for it. it’s harder to say
But the hardest thing is patience.”
Poland’s little sister and brother You have beautiful smooth hair! At school, you must have a lot of books to readBut in each of these beer, please learn the meaning of each word.
To prepare for life.
Pan-miry Cemetery: great school! Every beer in Panama: precious book pages opened in the middle of life
Keep learning, my dear!
Warsaw, April 1962
Poem: Precious pages of a book
Poem: Remembering the South
Miss the South
I – Mien Dong Remember the very long afternoon of the old quarter. Four seasons, the sky is drooling, I crave for meat from time to time, when I am hungry, I go to dig up the ground roots. Who would have thought that after the French battle, the fire of the American-Diem bombs poured on my head. The old stream drank again, the old forest in the Resistance War this time we meet again II – Central region (Dong Thap Muoi) The field is like my mother’s heart. I love my children and take care of hundreds of people. But my heart is determined not to forgive the enemy. I bring wild children to the race. Clear mirror: alum ponds The whole region still radiates. fragrant lotus The beautiful old scene waiting for the old people Love to miss each other night and night!III – The West Roots are spread out: millions of fingers Cling to the ground, no one will shake it! Sharp water coconut buds: a thousand sharp swords Challenge the enemies of the sky to fly down! clearly every moment of the Cuu Long water The waves rise in waves, the waves in the heart The night is about to turn off the flag and turn red The sky of our homeland has turned pink!
Hanoi, the days of July 1960
Poem: Remembering the South
Poem: There are springs
There are springs
Remember the old days when I welcomed spring With a young heart, when I was five years old, I only loved clothes and wanted gifts and cakes
Cannon carcasses like to look red in the yard.
On the afternoon of the thirtieth Lunar New Year, my father wrote a red lily to welcome spring and pasted it all over the house. At the end of the happy day, I asked my mother
Sad to hear people reply: (To the third day!).
I still remember the old days when I welcomed spring With an open heart at the age of fifteen Love tomorrow there are butterflies flying back
Unfortunately, the spring afternoon sun will fade away.
Spring has come to this day, I welcome spring With a burning heart of citizenship A day of patriotism that has not forgotten debt
The cup of wine to his lips is still hesitant.
The sound of firecrackers to celebrate spring in the middle of this New Year’s Day will be the kind of guns that resonate. Dispel the soul of the invaders
To enjoy spring among thousands of people.
Enthusiastically rush to the National Guard!Tomorrow we will give Spring gifts: The village liberated the village, having a happy festival
The country is beautiful and fresh, erase the marks.
Uh huh, do you like it tomorrow? Everywhere we put up pink flags! Trees are there on New Year’s Day
Worshiping together with one heart!
Dong Thap Muoi, Tet 1946
Poem: There are springs
Poem: A day far away
A day far away
Even though the waves are floating, I can’t go, I can’t go, I have to go. Even though my body is in danger, I feel sorry for the people’s life, I feel sorry for the young water. My heart is broken – a broken heart. a secret appointment – the snowy and dew-snowy place Remembering the standing position of the motherland A small garden of areca trees to cherish for thousands of days.Bright heart, good luckOpen a new page of history from this moment.High mountains, wide sea – Thank you.
A day away from the wharf of thousands of lives in flowers.
Source: “Knowledge Today” 1989
Poem: A day far away
Poem: My hometown field
My hometown field
When we heard that our troops cleared the Nga Sau branch and many other outposts in the center
(Tap Muoi Tam Dong)
My Wei is gone, and it’s life. Fish and shrimp are full of green rice fields. Happy life and double the scenery
Beautiful clouds in the sky – flowers on the waves.
Hanoi, April 1975
Poem: My hometown field
He has published more than 30 works including folk songs, poems, scripts, and critical studies. He was awarded the Second-class Independence Medal, the first-class Resistance Order, the first-class Anti-American Order for National Salvation, the Bronze Medal for the Fatherland, the 50-year Party membership badge, and the Medal for the cause of Vietnamese literature. …
Posted by: Khong Thi Thanh Vui
Keywords: 10 beautiful poems of poet Bao Dinh Giang
