This morning, I hear the birds singing

on the roof of the old pagoda.

Leaves on the trees vibrate with the gong’s echoes.

I’m returning from the river,

excited with the rhythm of Love.

It’s a golden summer. On the sunlit terrace,

you let fly each thread of silky hair,

and your smile brightens up our place of fortunate encounter.

Although this human world’s a temporary, foggy realm,

and I’m a drifter and wanderer in it,

and have lost myself many times in life’s ups-and-downs,

I will eventually return to the place of my roots, one day,

to feel the passion and love for my motherland,

even though its people still hold bitter anger and hatred.

I will take you, my love,

across the milk fruit tree garden,

between the path of Durian trees,

fragrant with the scent of pomelo trees’ flowers

and we’ll will drink the fresh coconut milk.

The veins of the Mekong River full of peaceful dreams.

It flows across my soul with the scents of rice meadows.

There’s an Oriental white-eye 

singing by the rice meadow.

Spring season has just awakened.

Birds are singing amid the forest trees.

The eyes of the young child full of wonder.

Colorful kites flying in the wind.

Do you see, my darling,

the ancient words on the tombstones,

the swords of those who had once fought bravely in many battles

will eventually fade away in the dust of Time.

This morning,

the streets and shops are bustling with people;

the classrooms fragrant with scent of fresh green rice;

happy feelings dancing on the book pages.

I hear the sounds of your high heels on the Trường Tiền Bridge.

Your long dress dance in the evening wind across the “Cổ Ngư” street.

The sounds of car horns in SaiGon’s early morning

Fragrant tamarind leaves on your shoulders with flowing hair.

It feels so familiar like when our love just started.

The golden times of studenthood with beautiful dreams.

From thousands of miles away,

sending back to my homeland my love.

I’m like a boat from the Infiniy of Space.

So fortunate to have met you when I arrive in the homeland

I’m like a sad travel

bearing longings for a hundred years.