The Mekong River Poem by Natasa To

Beneath the sun, a silver thread,

the Mekong flows where dreams are spread.

Its waters hum a timeless song,

of nations bound, yet carried along.



It cradles fields in fertile grace,

rice blooms and lotus find their place.

Fishermen cast their hopes at dawn,

while herons lift their wings and yawn.



Mountains whisper to its streams,

jungles shimmer with ancient dreams.

From Tibet's heights to delta wide,

its spirit drifts, a living tide.



The Mekong holds both past and new,

a mirror sky, a shifting hue.

Forever moving, calm yet grand,

a river's heart that shapes the land.