Huu Thinh Poems

The letter I wrote you had smeared ink,
But the bamboo walls are thin, and fog kept leaking through.
On this cold mountain, I cannot sleep at night.
By morning, a reed stalk can fade.
...

He owns nothing, not even a blade of grass
Though the hills are wide, not even a small plot of earth,
Yet my brother belongs to the land and sky of Phan Thiet.
...

I ask the earth: How does earth live with earth?
—We honor each other.
I ask water: How does water live with water?
...

The clouds float off,
We stay behind,
The cuoc birds cry by the river docks.
...

Someone wishes you dead,
But your breasts become more like precious jade each day.
...