Poetry Nghiem Huyen Vu

‘Job selection’ is probably the most correct way of saying for literary circles. Nghiem Huyen Vu graduated from the University of General Physics in the Soviet Union (formerly) in 1973, but a future physicist has taken a turn, choosing to step on the path of poetry. That same year he entered the military life, served nine years, then moved on to publishing, journalism and journalism management – publishing until his retirement. He has printed more than 10 books, including six volumes of poetry, the rest are translated poetry, essays, dissertations, short stories …

“Job selection” is probably the most correct way of saying for literary circles. Nghiem Huyen Vu graduated from the University of General Physics in the Soviet Union (formerly) in 1973, but a future physicist has taken a turn, choosing to step on the path of poetry. That same year he entered the military life, served nine years, then moved on to publishing, journalism and journalism management – publishing until his retirement. He has printed more than 10 books, including six volumes of poetry, the rest are translated poetry, essays, dissertations, short stories … His poetry has meticulously refined observations, and words have been refined. Many seemingly normal details were blown into his poetic soul, becoming sparkling. He saw the “lotus heel” from “distant memory” in the woman carrying the water; realizing the “first little separation” when taking the child into grade 1 and seeing the girl’s “wind full of humble clothes” in the early spring …, then generalizing it into a concept, philosophy live by yourself. Reading him, we are persuaded by emotional poetic soul, loving people, “on the side of tears”. Nghiem Huyen Vu is a member of the Association of Vietnamese Writers, a native of Duc Tho (Ha Tinh), and currently lives and writes in Hanoi. Huu Viet poet chooses and introduces Autumn hair Thu seemed to have about his dry and thirsty heart early breeze West Lake dew willow invite green remote There was a time when I had long hair wind farming Grazing dreams on each microfiber I go through a brilliant autumn My hair is fading my dreams are yellow And the autumn comes back the same wind I heard my heart melt in the morning hair fall … The woman goes to get the water The woman goes to get the water shoulder blade deflection Chest is heavy shake with the footsteps the woman thinks about the fire hot water red charcoal dinner lamp rough man’s face austere Bare feet through fire through the mud lotus heel distant memory Feet go a thousand times still don’t stop searching the nearest road The woman goes to get the water Loosen the water more pain and love – the river is still flowing The woman goes to get the water all my life Can’t think in time shoulder deflection and speckled feet. Written at Ba Lat’s door It has been many years since I met the Red River Where the river blends into the great sea The place flutters the crimson horizon The waves burst up overwhelmingly before boundless The place where the fairy tale begins Alluvial seeds turn into deltas Bare children dancing in waves As if hatching from Au Co egg wrap Surprisingly golden ripe rice apricot Right by the waves in the sea ring New thatched roofs birds find Land revived in the acrid salinity of human life Where the river meets the sky Red water across the sixteenth moon Self-love stars are nine stars Golden sand glittering at night The sagging wing swaying forever Ru the great countryside into the Country Flowing through time glorious ruin Pink a sea far away Compensate to hear the past five months Between the earth and water junction My source raindrops fall Going through my life to reach the estuary …