(CLO) Poet Nguyen Hong Vinh has just published the poem October Happiness - a touching poem, full of humanity, the continuation of sacrifice and dedication. A poem like a new definition of happiness, in verse, born on the occasion of the anniversary of Vietnamese Women's Day (October 20, 2024).
HAPPY OCTOBER
Nguyen Hong Vinh
Born in October
I turned 1 year old, my father went to the North
The border is filled with gunfire.
Trenches like furnaces
Dust and bomb dust covered everything!
Two months later, my mother received a short letter:
"He is still with his teammates.
I wish you and your mother good health and happiness"
Two years later the unit sent the message:
In the battle up the hill to hold the post
Together with teammates, repel the attack.
And father passed away when the enemy bullet pierced his stomach!
October is late this year
I forgot the time
With the volunteer army
Worry about rescuing people buried in landslides
Wet clothes not changed in time
Cold and hunger at night tearing!
Every afternoon, mother sits on the doorstep
Heading towards the Northwest
The rain is still white
More villages swept away by floods!
I came back on my birthday night
Mom put on the table the vase of roses I like.
With grapefruit, persimmon, custard apple, tangerine...
Mom looked at her child and friends gathering together.
Sing the birthday song
Tears streamed down my cheeks…
Surely father and son in the underworld
Smiling happy October!
On Vietnamese Women's Day
( 10/20/2024 )
Creativity in art is the creation of a new model, this model originates from reality but is not identical with reality. The work is both the reality of life and the creative work that clearly bears the author's subjective mark. Calling reality in art "mood reality" is in accordance with that idea. The reality in October Happiness is the story of the dedication of a family of three: father, mother, and child. Decades ago, when the child was one year old, the father said goodbye to his beloved home to fight to protect the northern border:
Born in October
I was one year old when my father went to the North.
The border is filled with gunfire.
Trenches like furnaces
Dust and bomb dust covered everything!
It was a sacrifice of all three: The “full-year-old” child needed the father to hold, cherish, and teach him. The wife needed the husband to share the time when the child was young, the housework, the office work, the farming. Of course, the husband’s departure was the greatest sacrifice. But it was also the responsibility, and the honor of a citizen. Two months later, the wife received a letter from her husband, which was a joy. Two years later, the wife received news of her husband, which was a heartbreaking pain:
Two months later, my mother received a short letter:
"He is still with his teammates.
I wish you and your mother good health and happiness"
Two years later the unit sent the message:
In the battle up the hill to hold the post
Together with teammates, repel the attack.
And father passed away when the enemy bullet pierced his stomach!
For a wife, there is no greater pain than the pain of losing her husband. For a child, there is no greater pain than the pain of losing a father. A father, a husband is the support, the pillar of the family. Yet that support, that pillar is no longer there, he has left for the country, for the people. That is the great sacrifice of many families in such dire circumstances!
The father fell on the border, decades later, it was the daughter's turn to follow in her father's footsteps to the border area "Worrying to save people buried in landslides/Wet clothes not changed in time/Cold and hungry at night tore them apart!". The father sacrificed his body to fight the invaders, the two-legged enemy. The daughter sacrificed her youth to fight the legless enemy, the fierce natural disaster. The father saved the country. The daughter saved the people:
October came late this year
I forgot the time
With the volunteer army
Worry about rescuing people buried in landslides
Wet clothes not changed in time
Cold and hunger at night tearing!
As for the mother, the sacrifice is still great. Decades ago, she waited for her husband with endless hope. Now she waits for her child, longs for her child with anxiety:
Every afternoon, mother sits on the doorstep
Heading towards the Northwest
The rain is still white
More villages swept away by floods!
It's understandable. You are now my support, my joy, my hope. To me, you are everything. My joy only bursts when you return:
I came back on my birthday night
Mom put on the table the vase of roses I like.
With grapefruit, persimmon, custard apple, tangerine...
Mom looked at her child and friends gathering together.
Sing the birthday song
Tears streamed down my cheeks…
In life, coincidence adds poetry to life. Also in October: I was born; Dad went to the border; Dad sacrificed himself (two years later); I went to the Northwest; I returned. October is filled with many memories. Here, coincidence is like a flavor that makes happiness more passionate. A mother's tears become a polysemous symbol: love for her child; longing for her husband; happiness; pride.
The two concluding lines of the poem are not at all sad, but shine with sympathy and longing for the father in the afterlife: "Surely father and son in the underworld/Are smiling, celebrating the happy October!" , reminding us of a verse by To Huu during the time of fighting the Americans: "The previous generation of fathers, the next generation of sons/Have become comrades in the same march". Some people have sacrificed, but thousands of others have continued the journey to keep the Fatherland independent, free, peaceful and happy! That is the philosophy of the noble way of life of our nation. The ideological value of the poem lies in that fundamental support.
Associate Professor, Dr. Nguyen Thanh Tu
Source: https://www.congluan.vn/hanh-phuc-thang-muoi--mot-bai-tho-nhan-van-cam-dong-post317439.html
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