Thong Ba Le
Another world next door
They are standing upside down
people in a Vietnamese town,
at the opposite end of the globe
and hanging on the universe top.
There are two full moons in one month twice this year
and ice storms, avalanches, tornadoes I fear.
That Doom's Day is almost near;
the end of a civilization is clear.
War and violence destroyed human lives;
conflicts and confrontations resolved by missiles.
Love and peace to all human races
in the name of the Lord we keep our faith.
There would be another world next door
(Echoing) ... another world next door...
The earth
From above, it appears to be a large balloon,
colored with blue, white and maroon.
With drifting smoky treks of clouds
above sparkling seas embracing fertile ground.
Closer, that globe becomes a magnificent picture
drawn by angels who protect all creatures
All things that live and thrive
under the azure sky and golden sunshine.
The Earth, our green planet, home of many generations,
was formed by a “bang” on its day of creation
with snow-covered mountains, unending seas,
vast prairies, lakes and soaring trees.
On the ground, cars, trucks, buses and trains
are zigzagging, shuttling, honking on asphalt lanes,
like children’s toys and in video games.
The Earth, after her start, is no longer the same.
The Destiny
I remembered on that evening,
together you and I had seen
a pair of doves flying fast,
and we made a wish and a hint.
When the birds carried our dreams
among the clouds to the sunbeams,
and followed the wind to eternity,
there we would stay to become a team.
With the sea current our hope
went down with the seaways slope,
and rode on the back of seahorses
to the Sea Kingdom--at that stop we lived.
On the iceberg we would wish
to be shipped to the Poles,
where our love would last
forever with the long life of the cold.
And our destiny had been planned:
To be free or else to fight
with the old world among the universe.
For the right and the honor we stand.
We were believers in the Resurrection.
The human bodies risen from all directions,
from the earth and from the death,
and to be judged by their actions.
There would not be any coincidence
without a cause or with no reason presented.
The love and the destiny were always the same;
we love our destiny because our loves happened.
Heartfelt Poetry
Words from my heart, this poem of mine
Tells the story of my life,
Of those I have loved and lost
My country, my homeland, my mind.
I believed in destiny,
The sad days that came so quickly.
In the wake of the bloody war,
I sailed the last vessel to be free.
Words of a wise man once said,
The "Rose of the East Sea" will set
On the end of the Nguyen Dynasty,
And the Communists will come with bloodshed.
The President, the generals they were careless
Of their people, their country and they fled.
Leaving behind warriors who once fought
For freedom, their country and happiness.
Day by day I try to forget,
I sit in the evening when the sun sets.
And I watch the seagulls flying by,
Then ponder words the old man said.
I feel so lost in my sadness
I search for love and happiness.
My memories come back with pain,
The warrior has been laid to rest.
'Til the day will come for us,
'Til the sun shines, 'til then we must
Remember and keep the hope,
The spirit of a warrior and a patriot.
The Freedom we have fought for will finally come.
All the Vietnamese abroad will go home
Hands in hand together we shall rebuild
A free Vietnam, a happy Motherland
Children in slavery
They were sadly standing there
the children in slavery with sunlight in their hair.
Chains were on their feet dragging through,
I closed my eyes and I was feeling blue.
Tonight in my dream I dreamed of them,
so pure so innocent they were condemned.
Tears were running down their faces.
What was wrong? Why had they become slaves?
The savage militia had destroyed their dreams,
to live a life, a simple one in sunbeams
with the howling of the wind in the forest
and the roar of lions in the darkness.
The human society had just started,
collecting money and joining their caring arms
to buy back children from a slave's life,
waiting for the world to open its mind.
The Chain
He raised his hand as to wrap around the sun
and looked up to find the vast limitless blue sky
with his thoughts of the changes since he was young
through the only quadratic window of his mind
He sadly wandered along the crumbling wall
counting pencil lines which indicated his time.
The chain laid tenderly by his leg and most of all
they became friends, the man and the timeless chime .
This sound of his chain was heard in the cold cell
a tenor key like the beating waves in his heart
It was pulling his soul down and down to hell.
Survival spirit lifted him up toward sunshine at last.
In thirteen years they had become much more
than two dearest friends but comrades.
In the wintry night they listened to the roar
of the jungle as they whispered in the dark.
The Orphans
They are holding their dirty, empty bowls,
waiting for food, patiently forming lines,
just like a dark-skinned snake moving so slow.
The children, the orphans with deep sad eyes
were the products of a society
that ruined their nation by their war crimes.
The cruel war had destroyed cities
sending children to poverty after
their parents died fighting for liberty.
During hot days in the streets, they wander.
In cold nights without blankets, they sleep,
homeless children live without a future.
The wound of this endless war is so deep,
with their faith in humanity, they keep.
Hold On To Your Dream
(In memory of the Refugees)
Hold on to your dream!
that is always as energetic as the sunbeam
reflecting from the mirror of your mind
when it lightens up the morning sky.
Hold on to that dream of yours!
Don’t let go the precious things that you have lived for:
the family; the happiness and the freedom
that matters to you and others who admire your wisdom.
Hold on to your dream. It’s your life!
like the morning with bountiful sunshine.
Don’t give up not for a moment, what you believe greatly:
the idealism; the people and the liberty.
So, hold on to your American dreams!
join hands and blend yourself with the mainstream:
“...from the mountains...to the oceans, white with foam...”
and this wonderland finally becomes your home sweet home.
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