Did I die deep for your eyes?
Did I die deep for every smile
That you wore on your face?

Then I look back into the past
Finding a girl along her innocence;
Where she was running, on the field;
Where she was bathing, on the river bank.
Here you are, when you were young;
There you grow old as the long time comes.
Hearts, born, beat, gone, lost with their names.
Whales, breath, swim, never fly, keep silent in their throats.
Beauty’s still, in the cache of my feelings.
What’s about now? Rain drops. Wet all.
Make me wait like a sailing ship
On the Frankenstein’s loveroute.


I felt that I was old.
But heart still quickly beats as she touches love.
Love is everywhere;
Is there, is here, growing up as long as my hair can be,
So much beautiful like your smile you gave to me.

You’re young, ‘neath the stars but above the waving leaves on the top of woods.
Always be the furthest horizon I wanna paint.
I wanna draw some lines and a circle,
And colorize ’em with red, orange, yellow and violet.
A piece of poem I will make aside.
Drops of rainfall will blur your eyes.
Faces will go evanescing behind forgotten walls.
Figures will be engraved into ghostly winds.
Voices will melt like southern ices.
But colors of memories last forever.
And strokes of love round ever.
Smoothly as sands.
Glossily as bubbles.
In the sunbeam.


You step like you stepped
Far away and forever
Dreams and separations
Turning right, turning left
On the endless circle road
Of a thousand miles in love

I’ve got a perfect sign of hope
But it don’t lead to anywhere I know
I go. I go. Til’ leaves fall yellow
Then I take rest in the rear of peace
Where a river bleeds out its hurt
When the silence swallows all night’s cries

The ending day of the world 3 (or “We’ll never know”)

If you read the part 1 and 2, then you should be happy now, ‘cause this is part 3 from series of mine: {The ending day of the world}.

You could read old parts (in Vietnamese) at:
– Part 1: The ending day of the world (1)
– Part 2: The ending day of the world 2 (or “Never-ending stories”)

Glad to write this in English. But that’s no problem. I’m practicing my ability itself.


It’s so long from the first time when I wrote `your` name softly on a white paper, smiling as if it (called “love”) would never happen to me once again – specially that if it were caused by `you`. “Ooh, it’s just something.. only something strange.. `Love`, isn’t a right word to describe my feeling.. but no other suitable words are found..”. “Maybe `you`?? No!!”. “Will I love `you` like this way? Sure that no.”. I started to get `you` outta my head, like the way the ocean waves do, to erase footprints on the shore; but I was not as fully strong as them; I was really not heartless enough, or (I’m sure that!!) `you` weren’t sand. Oh, I could not be as a cold cold wind, blowing through everywhere, from north to south, east to west, bringing winter onto lands, making snowflakes fall down on fields and gardens, then leaving, suddenly; all things melted into water; nothing left to remain. “Oops! I must be crazy. Or a bit like crazy. Call me a dreamy night.”. But by the way, I couldn’t stop talking to `you` everyday, as well as kept caring and worrying about `you` everytime.

Then now, “I love `you`. And it’s true.”..

It’s so long from the day I was born in Hanoi. I’m always happy with being born and living my whole life here. But it’s not the reason why I love this city, for ever. Two years ago, a big anniversary was celebrated when Hanoi got 1000 years of age. “`It’s gonna be an ancient town soon` – I completely agree with my idea, as time still goes by fast like a super rocket now.” But that’s still not the reason I wanna mention. Yeah..

I sometimes walked in the rain of Hanoi, with no hats, no raincoats or umbrellas, felt the sadness running down on my cheeks. Actually, I didn’t hate rain as much as I usually said. I liked the way it made me wet and get heavy, and helped me to join the rhythm of the most natural things in this world. I liked the way it rained carresingly on Sunday. I also liked the way it rained in the afternoon, so gently; millions of droplets of water were sparkling under the shimmer of the sun. And when it rained at night, I liked stepping lonely in the dark. Just to know everything I had done was right. Not to grow up like plants. I liked seeing neon lights blurring in my eyes. Then, scenes in front of me were like being backward to the past, or like being forward to the future. Hey, I couldn’t reach them. They were real, but also seemed to be unreal. I got confused. And as it was in a fairy-tale,  I always imagined that something magical would occur at the end of the road I was walking on, when the rain disappeared entirely into its rest. But exactly what was ‘something’? I never did this expectation carefully. Might be `you`? I wondered.

I sometimes sat with my friends, or even with myself – I preferred this – at any familiar small corners in Hanoi; and drank coffee – a glass of coffee mixed with a little condensed milk. I often had nothing much to speak, to them – my friends in case they were there, and nearly fell into state of silence immediately. In fact, I didn’t care people’s talking; I didn’t mind any conversations which did not relate to me directly. I liked acting as a stone, lying in peace and musing upon the distant void. Well, it was better for me to keep my mind as empty as possible, or it would explode due to thousands of ideas born per second within; and only bitter-sweet caffeine could do this unseenable task. I liked using spoon to slowly stir my glass of coffee many times till coffee and milk twisted into steady circles before drinking any from it. While noises were still around, I was very supposed to hear nothing and there seemed that no sound of any words rolling in the air could affect me. “Am I losing deeply in somewhere?” I used to ask myself this question. I guessed I was on the path to a place named “The Eternity of Balance” – where my overflowing thoughts could be converted into nutritive foods which then served as a delicious supper for my screaming stomach at night. Was I fantasizing? I wondered.

I’m trynna catch the moment escaping from my fingers. It goes so fast. My memories are corroding in every minutes. And I’m forgetting what I need remembering. I can’t control the blink of every neurons in my brain. They are now working for their own happiness, not mine. So, what’s up? My mind considers itself a funny miscellaneous massive mess. It causes a huge problem of operating and co-operating what I see, what I hear, what I smell, .., then to what I think. I wanna save some voices. But I’m not allowed to do it. Permissions are firing somewhere out of my hands. And with no new useful introductions for this unkown condition, I stand there, don’t know what to do, see everything fading away, little by little. Yeah, I can wish something. But wishes won’t make any changes. So I give up and aim to sleep. Dream a dream.

Well, where we are coming at? At where our hearts are jumping to. Don’t fear anything. Do what you need to do. Correct what you did wrong. Stand up soon right after you fell. You only live once. Live it best with no regrets; then readily welcome you to the death. Just smiling. Death never harms you. He’s only a friend coming up next after your previous friend (known as ‘life’) is gone forever and ever. And he will take care of you till the last. The last? What do I mean? I have no point of view about it. And you should have, too. Oh no, I’m not saying that we are all coming at death. I referred that we had better come at where ours hearts jump to. Is it done? I’ll never know.

I’ll never know anything, but something I have known or did know. And I did know for so long that I’m loving `you` so much, loving `you` best with no regrets. I’m not readily loving `you` while smiling to the death; so it sounds better to know that I’m loving `you` at anywhere my heart’s jumping to.

I rarely dreamed about `you`. But when I did, the dreams always caused me to wake up scarely. I had no permits to complain of my stupid mind – it did its own private work as usual – but, it was only that I hated facing to the darkness at midnight and hated to feel missing `you` instead of every stars twinkling up high above the poetic sky. I hated the way `you` runned away and got dangers in every dreams of mine. And there was like no chances for me to catch `you` stopping, or more correctly was, to catch my mind stopping its foolish action of madness. Oh it’s surprisingly, I still remembered `you` and `your` charming voice. Clearly to now.

Clearly. I’m riding on my bicycle round Sword Lake in Hanoi. It’s crowded here, there and everywhere. On streets, on lakeside, on pavements, in Ly Thai To Flower Garden, at Dong Kinh Nghia Thuc Square, people enjoy shouting, laughing, walking, sightseeing, talking, jogging, driving. They’re all happy. Aren’t they?! I’m sure that they are. If not, they don’t come here to dissolve themselves in so much damn fucking noises and in many dull yellow lights from streets’ lamps, halls’ lamps or restaurants’ lamps. It’s funny when I’m here, too; hiding all my sadness behind my `blue` eyes, just to join the city’s daily social living. It’s funny when I’d rather be alone at where people show up their animation without any splendid shame. I wanna feel the spiritedness from them; then get it back in my letters. For me, humans are worth great creatures that need to survey and research minutely. I like to work on them whenever having free time. Mindfully, I’m drawing their actions, their smiles, their cheers, their jokes into the wrinkled part of irresolution of my brain. And later, at several amazed moments, I will remember them, feel their emotions like those are mine. Then write something about life, death, devotion and sacrifice. In some backgrounds that only I know.

I’m wondering how to end up all. We don’t usually know how to end up everything, and give out questions of it. But it seems that nothing of all needs to be ended.

I’m drinking coffee – a glass of coffee stirred steadily with a little condensed milk – at the top of my house. It’s windy and the scenery is immense. Night covers all with his shadow of dark. There’s still the moon and a few stars hanging on the sky’s curtain. But they shine slowly. The air sometimes keeps silent, then breezes have their opportunities to come after and give my ears some whishpers from so-far lands where the autum has begun from the start. The hot weather falls to cool down. Everything is in a good mood. But I feel lacking the rain. Rain will make everything better. And better.

Cause I’m missing `you` tonight. And I wanna..

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain.
Telling me just what a fool I’ve been.
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain.
And let me be alone again.
The only girl I care about has gone away.
Looking for a brand new start.
But little does she know.
That when she left that day.
Along with her she took my heart..

Rồi anh sẽ quên được em thôi

Này nhé cuộc đời, chôn chặt nhé:
Điệp khúc tình yêu chẳng ai nghe.
Buồn ơi cũng thế, nhanh tay giấu:
Cho khỏi lụy ai những đêm hè.

Rồi ta sẽ sống trong niềm nhớ,
Ký ức đong đầy mỗi giấc mơ,
Ước ao ngày trước đem cất giữ,
Trái tim rồi đây hóa dại khờ.

Hôm nay mưa rơi đông kín ngõ,
Chút nắng len qua chẳng kịp vàng.
Ta cười, ta khóc, bao cảm xúc
Bỗng nhẹ tuôn trào khi thu sang.

Ta với mùa thu chẳng họ hàng,
Mà sao gắn bó, sao thân thiết:
Khi nào ta khóc, thu cũng khóc,
Khi ta cười, thu vẫn buồn mênh mang.

Vậy là đã hết, cơn mưa ấy.
Lang thang trên phố gió heo may.
Nguyễn Du, hoa sữa, bao giờ nở,
Lại đón em về trong giấc say.

Kẻ thất tình

Thôi rồi ta vỡ mộng
Nước mắt vỡ thành sông
Nỗi buồn trào thành bể

Cơn mưa nào nhẹ ướt lòng em
Bóng đêm nào che khuất lối nhỏ
Vỉa hè xa ôm ấp bước chân
Ánh điện vàng hắt hơi sương lạnh giá
Mang cô đơn chìm dần theo tiếng thở
… Mảnh trăng đã khuyết đến tận cùng
Thôi giờ hồn ta đành tắt lịm
Trốn trong góc phố
Để mặc cơn mơ


Biết nói gì đây nhỉ
Để khỏa lấp nỗi buồn
Em không cần tôi nữa
Nhẹ nhàng bỏ ra đi

Để lại mối tình si
Từ giờ thoi thóp thở
Thôi nô đùa vĩnh viễn
Không nấc nghẹn một lời

Em đã đi thật rồi
Mang theo hết mùa nắng
Và cả những ngày mưa
Cho con tim trống vắng

Buồn ở nơi xa lắm
Ngơ ngác ngắm trời chiều
Em như là xa lắm
Dù vừa ở đây thôi…


Chưa có bao giờ buồn như hôm nay
Mây gió xa rồi còn tôi nơi đây
Ngu ngốc dại khờ tìm trong cơn say
Bao nhiêu yêu dấu thôi đã vội bay
Thương tiếc ngổn ngang rơi rớt qua ngày.

Đôi lúc nhớ em

Cuộc đời có mấy khi lòng trống trải
Được xa em và cảm thấy cô đơn.


Là chút nắng hồng nâng niu buổi sớm
Giữa cuộc đời mơ mộng của tôi.


Biết bao giờ em mới buồn đây…
Anh sẽ pha cho em một cốc trà thật ấm
Sẽ có hương vị của mùa thu ngọt lắm
Và anh sẽ ngồi bên và chỉ ngắm em thôi.


Đôi lúc nhớ em, anh sẽ như thế
Sẽ để em cười, sẽ để em nói không thôi
Sẽ mặc kệ em vui sướng với đời
Chỉ đợi đêm về mới chúc câu ngon giấc

Đôi lúc nhớ em, anh sẽ cứ như thế
Sẽ im lặng, sẽ mộng mị trong cơn tự kỉ với thời gian
Sẽ ôm cây đàn và chặn những nốt buồn xưa cũ
Sẽ dạt dào cảm xúc mà viết mấy vần thơ..
Rằng anh đã nhớ em nhiều, phải thế, thật không?

When the train runs off the line

Tản mạn mùa thu – Tập viết. Viết cho thời gian trôi…


Time blows like the wind
Throughout the fields
Over the mountains
Welcome the morning and the sun
That shining my life
Welcome you who understands
What I am thinking of
What I’m trynna do
What I love to watching
Watching you step
You walk down the street
With all the kisses you can bring
With all the songs you can sing
All the love that I am giving
To you..

When the train runs off the line
I’m on off the usual way
I’m not gonna save my life
Let it fall from high
Let it break into pieces
And let it turn, turning around you
You are the dreams
And you are the clouds
And you are…