Why not come back to see Vỹ Dạ village?

Watch the sunshine rising over the areca palm trees

Whose garden’s so lushly green like jade

With a girl’s square face

hidden and revealed by the bamboo leaves…

The wind follows its path; the clouds, theirs

The  rivulet looks depressing with swaying corn flowers

Whose boat’s docking in the pier of the Moon River,

Will it bring the moon home in time tonight?

She dreams of a visitor from a land far away

Her dress so pure white, it’s hard to recognize its wearer

Here, fog and smoke blur even a human shadow

Who would know if whose love’s still ardent or not?