A collection of poems about mothers by Van Quyen

How wonderful to still have my mother to take care of me.

The weather has been unpredictable these past few days.
My mother felt more tired this morning.
Mom, did you sleep well?
Does your back still hurt when you wake up at night?

When my mother is happy and healthy, I feel at ease.
Looking through the crack in the door, the pink sunlight was rising.
Leave the betel nuts there, I'll prepare them later.
The face wash and water are already on the table.

I helped my mother into the wheelchair.
Breakfast is ready, Mom, please eat.

How wonderful to still have my mother to take care of me!

Remember your roots

Our origins lie in the place where we were born,
A place to build a warm and sheltered family home.
A place that always draws us back,
Cornfields, rice paddies, embankments, egrets...

The origins of my childhood,
Herding buffalo, fishing, setting traps, hunting birds.
Playing marbles, cockfighting, hide-and-seek,
Climbing trees to pick fruit, searching for wild berries on the hill.

The origins of learning and playing,
Away from the village, each of us went our separate ways, pursuing different professions.
It's heartbreaking to see those who went to war and never returned.
I feel sorry for those who have lost their homes and families, and for many others who have left their hometowns!

The human heart is a place of love.
The ancestral tomb speaks of many sacred things.
Overwhelmed with many personal and shared concerns,
Calm your mind and listen to the sounds of gongs and drums at the edge of the sky.

The root cause is the longing for someone.
It's so sad when you make promises to each other but don't end up together!
The source is where the soul anchors.
So many memories will forever remain between us.

The love of a father and the kindness of a mother are deeply etched in our hearts.
Forgetting your roots, where will you go, my friend?!

Happy every time I go out.

My mother is almost a hundred years old.
And they have good hearing and sharp eyesight.
And then, while sitting in the car going out to the street,
Gazing at the vast expanse of land and sky.

People come and go.
They all inquired about my well-being kindly.
My mother also happily joined the conversation.
It's like they're family.

Happiness is that simple.
But it felt so complete.
In a small house,
The fragrance of life rises and spreads.

Love for Mom

In the old days, people ate vegetables and porridge.
Banana rhizomes and cassava peels can be used as substitutes for rice.
Through hard work and overcoming countless difficulties,
My mother raised us.

I'm hungry for food, but not for knowledge.
The children should focus on their studies to become good people.
Now, thinking about my mother's sacrifices,
I love you so much, Mom!

I'm worried.

The weather changed drastically last night.
As autumn begins to bring its first chilly breezes, a gentle autumn wind blows.
I heard my mother coughing, her voice sounding a bit hoarse.
I hope it's morning soon so I can call a doctor.

In the countryside, it's the whole village.
Relatives and close friends, near and far.
Turn off the lights, let the fire go.
Let's join hands and share the burden together.

This is a close neighbor.
They are a group of friends who are there for each other when needed.
Waiting to hear the first rooster crow.
Excuse me, Mom, how do you feel? I'm worried.

My mother laughed, her laughter mixed with coughing.
A cold often causes an itchy throat, a sign of old age!
The profound meaning of motherly love, fatherly affection.
Loving your child means overlooking everything.

Silently, the mother still remembers and longs for him.

My mother is still waiting for me back home.
The Lunar New Year is approaching, urging my child who is still far away.
Nothing is more memorable than homesickness.
The faint sound of roosters crowing at midday could be heard.

It was drizzling, and a cold wind was blowing.
I gaze out the gate, hoping my child hasn't come home yet.
Like a boat longing for its home dock,
Like a river remembering the embankment at the end of the village.

Peach blossoms bloom again to welcome the arrival of spring.
What is it that makes my heart so restless, Mother?
Loving one's children and grandchildren who are thousands of miles away.
Being old and frail, they are hesitant to travel by train or bus...

How could I forget my mother back home!
Even at over a hundred years old, he still remembers his grandchildren.
With the arrival of spring, I promise nothing more.
As long as my hometown and my mother are still here, I will always come back to visit!

What do we see at the end of the year?
It is a silent, cherished memory of my mother.