by Tran Dang Khoa

The heaven is tranquil and peaceful
The descending snow is fluttering
The winners and the losers
Are now become dust

The crows’ lonesome silhouettes fly by
Over the battlefield of a distant year
Dusk frightfully burns
The fiery shades of wartime

Gone are the gun smoke and the trenches
The birch forest is empty
The wondrous shades of the Russian sky
Descends upon the remnants of the French troops

The ambitions and desires
Dim the snow-filled evening
Or perhaps, the spirits of those that died in the war
Still linger in this place?

The snow still silently falls
Smoothly white underneath the soles
As though there had been no bloodshed
Dripping wet at this place

All the timeless glory
All the bloodshed of a bygone age
Are now the entertainment
With which the children play…

1989

The location where Napoleon suffered a heavy defeat in the war against Russia in 1812. It is now a tourist attraction in Russia.

by Tran Dang Khoa

Everything shall come to pass, my dear
All events shall end like the trends of short and long skirts
The intelligent minds will become senile
What beauty does not wither and fade?

Time marches onward, coldly and cruelly
A masterpiece today may become a shame tomorrow
The countless idols we revere and worship
Are reduced to bare earthly foundations, chipped away by rain and shine

Somewhere out there, war is roaring
Some countries out there are undergoing upheavals
How fragile and pitiful the Earth is
Against the schemes and plots of humankind

Amid the changing and uncertain world
I love you. We don’t need much
Let’s stop worrying about what will come
And only know that we are together at this very moment

We drifted here, into unfathomable passion
The snow at the start of the season is smoothly white. The towers’ tops are majestic
Let’s be silent to let the quivering lips
Convey nature’s mysteries

All shall come to pass. Only love remains
Love helps us to forevermore remain Humans
If love no longer exists in this world
Then perhaps, the Earth will have been dissolved…

1990

by Tran Dang Khoa

Mother, perhaps in this skirmish
I will fall
Falling normally
Like my countless comrades
So that your thatched roof can be at peace
Beneath the yellow sunlight…

And, perhaps, when you open your eyes at dawn
You will receive a sheet of paper
Like the countless mothers in the village
A thin sheet of paper
That is heavier than thousands of tons of bombs
Raining down upon your old age
Even then, you shouldn’t cry
For I do not die

Please read Kiêu again
So that the house can once again become tranquil
Beneath the shades of a tree on which dusk vaguely settles
Please sit and lean against the door-frame to wait for me
Just like you did in the distant days long past
When I returned home from school each evening
And you will once again hear
The children’s footsteps
As they hug their books and throw their hands over each other’s shoulders
And giggle}
Passing by the window
Passing through the evening
Silently

And night will fall
All over the house
All over the yard
All over the sky…
The night will be warm and smooth as silk
Please don’t close the door
Let the wind enter
The wind will sing inside your house
About the dreams of the cloud-filled sky
And you will unknowingly doze off
To the point where you will not even recognize
That your son has returned
In the cool breath of wind
The breath of wind that has traveled across the Earth
To sing a lullaby to the mothers without their sons…

1979

by Tran Dang Khoa

I’m setting out to sea
The clouds are hung across the sky alongside the white sails
At the moment of parting, I walk along the port
The sea on one side and you on the other

The sea is noisy while you are gentle
You’ve just said something only to quietly smile
I’m like a ship assailed by the waves from both sides
The sea on one side and you on the other

Tomorrow, tomorrow, when the city is lit up
My ship will drop anchor beneath some distant constellations
Fathomless is the heaven’s depth, but I won’t be lonely
With the sea on one side and you on the other
Our poor country has never been at peace
The storm has yet to end amid the white funeral headbands
I will stand guard. Deep night. Isolated island
The sea on one side and you on the other

That heavenly dome may no longer contain you
Or the sea. Only me and the grass
Even then, I will still remember
The sea on one side and you on the other…

1982