If the wind has come,
Somewhere the moonlight gets lost, though.
Lull those eyes softly!

Leaves strike up the tune dissipating the noiselessness,

Waiting for the death from a deserted summer,

In the yellow fall.

Yes or no all those days

Bring the silver to our hairs,

Roaming so far away we are.

Still a shadow expecting the morning,

Sadly lighting a candle,

Truly knows how long a night is.

The unforgettable memories

Flooded out the frets on my guitar ever,

The days we sang together

Under a yellow moon.

How to find you, a portrait?

Thousands of stars there!

Thousands of stars there!

Đoàn Hồ Văn_ DH9D

  • Nguyễn Đức Phú Thọ

    I like the structure of this poem quarterfinals, with the sad and simple colors, but full of emotion...