A collection of poems about the teaching profession - a noble profession.

Thach Quy

TEACHING PROFESSION

Sixty years away from teaching

Now with white hair on his head, an old student comes to visit.

My hair is white, the students' hair is also white.

In that moment of reunion between teacher and student, everything suddenly turned vibrant and green.

The time-erasing machine cannot erase human feelings.

Sixty years, yet all the laughter and tears remain intact...

Le Quoc Han

INNOCENT

I vow to live each day with innocence.

Amidst the ebb and flow of life, the tide rises and falls. Unpredictable!

Born amidst the rapids and waterfalls at the headwaters.

A small heart weeps, lamenting the loss of childhood.

Youth - a river that erodes on both banks.

Crossing the abyss was like a dream.

Like the white stork in folk songs

Tomorrow I'll fall headfirst into the pond. Oh well!

Spread your wings in the blue sky.

Together with many friends, we wove together a poem.

A century of dreams remaining intact.

Swimming innocently between the clear and murky banks.

Ngo Duc Tien

SCHOOL MEMORIES

I've always had a bit of a sense of pride.

As the first class of students at the district school.

Who can count the thousands upon thousands of tender mulberry leaves that nourish the silkworm as it grows?

To spin silk threads for a lifetime

Thinking about school, I miss it so much, my school!

I cherish the lamp that has shone brightly through generations.

I cherish the teacher's gaze, which reflects the image of countless young people.

I cherish the image of the thatched roof, sweetly caressed by the southerly breeze.

I remember the difficult times our country went through.

Enemy bombs rained down on that land of cherished memories.

We walked on muddy ground, our feet sinking into the alluvial soil of the Tien and Hau rivers.

But the heart overflows with the waters of the Dinh River.

I remember Mr. Bai, Mr. Bao, Mr. Anh...

I remember my friends Huệ, Châu, Đăng, and Tới...

Over the past few decades, I've made many new friends.

My dear students from the district school.

Thinking about school, about sacred light

Regarding eternity and what is vibrant

And memories come in waves.

Infusing life with melodies of love.

Nguyen Huu Quyen

MY TOWN

The Lam River flows towards Dung*

The bewildered celestial horse sleeps on the chimney**

Silver water. White alluvium.

My souls drift away

Picking up fallen leaves from the banyan tree in the old schoolyard.

Carry your dreams home.

Listen to the sound of cicadas

An axe head lies dormant in the ground.

(As it is said, from prehistoric times)

Flip and use.

Cut it open and you'll see the morning star.

In the old days, why did they tell their ancestors to stop?

There are no more reeds on the beach.

Another year of floods has arrived...

*The name of Thanh Chuong town, Nghe An province.

**The chimney of the old sugar factory remains in Dung.**

Hoang Cam Thach

BIRDS RETURNING TO THEIR NESTS

(Dedicated to the students of the 1984-1987 graduating class)

Like a flock of birds flying far away

The eagle soars high over the vast ocean.

In a corner of the forest, the midday rooster crows.

And where do the storks wade along the riverbanks?

Working tirelessly from dawn till dusk, drifting against the current.

Aspirations shared through the years

The children went in search of a source of light.

Let today bring joy to people's faces.

There was joy that brought tears to my eyes.

There is a longing that echoes with mischievous laughter.

School days pass quickly in the blink of an eye.

The dust of time has etched itself on your cheeks, my dear!

Like a flock of birds flying to the ends of the earth.

Returning to our homeland, we remember those who worked tirelessly from dawn till dusk.

Though the sea is far away and the sky is vast,

Rain returns to the source, bringing coolness to the streams of my homeland.

Your footsteps leave their mark on the road again.

The calm surface of the lake reflects the blue sky in its depths.

The mountain sits in pensive silence, waiting to awaken day and night.

Whose laughter echoed across the schoolyard…?

Cao Tuan Hai

TEACHER!

There is a profession where no chalk dust flies around.

No red or pink flame trees outside the window

No lesson plans, working tirelessly and forgetting to sleep.

There are no cicadas chirping excitedly during exam seasons.

There is a profession that doesn't involve detailed mathematics.

No literary lectures or lecturing from a high platform.

The sound of the ship's whistle bidding farewell to the harbor is not romantic.

There is no such thing as beautiful crystal in the world.

There is a profession that teaches integrity and how to be a good person.

Taking wisdom, courage, and compassion as the guiding principles.

Ancestral culture from thousands of years ago

Seeking shared joy, yet burdened by personal sorrow.

The arduous and loyal ferry journeys

The teacher is still diligently trying to find a place to settle down.

Like waves crashing against two shores of hardship.

The teacher takes control of both the eroded and reclaimed land.