The Upland Hill

by Tran Hung

do not go, my love
this land belongs to you
cassava leaves miss your smile
pumpkin vines reach over rocks
birds drop rosy seeds

rolling hills
walking trees listen to shining clouds
flocks of sparrows fly in silence
oh upland hill
give me your hands
walk on this path
pass over this rock
and the corn will grow heavily on your shoulders
the horn will play, sweat will soak your back
and your feet will be wet in the twilight spring

do not go, my love
the upland hill bees are coming back
the bees starving of flowers are coming