Lullaby of the hammock swinging

Illustration

When I was a child, I loved being rocked to sleep by my mother in a bamboo hammock hung between two pillars of the house. The green hammock, worn over the years, was a sweet memory for me.

Lullaby… even if the wooden bridge is nailed down/ The bamboo bridge is rickety and difficult to cross…, mother's voice is deep and slow, blending with the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves, blending with the dry midday sun outside the porch.

I don't remember how many times I fell asleep in the hammock, I only remember my childhood days filled with love, surrounded by my mother's singing voice, by the hammock's steady swaying rhythm like the breath of my homeland.

In that same hammock, my grandmother would sit chewing betel and telling us children fairy tales. That was where my father would rest after long days of working in the fields, his eyes half-closed, his mouth softly humming a vọng cổ tune.

I remember those summer afternoons when it suddenly started to rain, my sisters and I would gather around the hammock, listening to my mother tell stories about her childhood. She said that in the past, my grandparents used to lull her to sleep with those songs.

It turns out that those lullabies are not just songs but also the bond that connects generations, the flow of love, the warmth of family.

Growing up, I was far from home, far from the bamboo hammock that had worn out over the years. During the busy days with work, I rarely had the chance to listen to the lullaby of the past.

The city is crowded, life is hurried, no one lulls anyone with old songs anymore. There are nights when I lie awake in the middle of the noisy city, I miss my mother, I miss the hammock rhythm of my childhood.

I long to return to those summer afternoons lying in my mother’s arms, to hear the familiar lullaby, to feel the warmth of those skinny but loving hands. But time cannot be turned back…

The day I returned home, I was surprised to see that the bamboo hammock was still there, just much older. Mom no longer lulled me to sleep like before, but in me, the song still echoed somewhere: “Au o… the wind sways the bamboo branches/ Mom’s lullaby resonates forever… The lullaby of childhood is the love of family, of mother, forever with me throughout my life./.

Nguyen Van Nhat Thanh

Source: https://baolongan.vn/au-o-nhip-vong-dong-dua-a193675.html