Poems about teachers

November 20, 2014 16:28

* Schoolthe day Uncle Ho arrived

(Commemorating Uncle Ho's visit)

Nghe An Secondary School, 1961)

How are you all?

- How are you, sir?

Are you full?

Yes, sir!

Are you happy learning?

- I'm happy, Uncle!

Are you united?

Yes, sir!

Do you increase production?

Yes, sir!

Seeing you children healthy makes me very happy.

So everyday

Do you do what you say?

- Yes...

My grandchildren's answers

Sounds weak.

The conversation between Uncle and nephew is long.

Just a piece

Who still remembers that year?

Who still has insomnia from that year until now?

The greatness of Uncle Ho has been incarnated

into the small daily life

And the little one disguised

To please Him

No matter how big it is, it is not enough to cover!

Nguyen Van Hung

Ảnh minh họa
Illustration photo

* Miss you teacher

(Respectfully pay respect to Professor Nguyen Thuc Hao)

The time of eating bo bo seeds

I love the teacher so much, I worry about the school

Windproof and fogproof cotton jacket

Rubber sandals for slippery hilly roads

Go La in heavy rain and storm (*)

Listening to the math teacher at noon, I'm still fascinated.

Bamboo hut with table

The classroom is full of wild flowers

A time of salty, spicy ginger

A time when bombs rained down, turning every black thread white

The teacher is still used to eating boron seeds.

Sitting awake at night with the flickering light

The time of poor land and poor country

The teacher's shadow shines forever in the middle of Go La pass...

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(*) Go La, an evacuation point of the Mathematics Department, Vinh University of Education,

in Thach Thanh district, Thanh Hoa province.

Nguyen Trong Tuat

* Old school

Lost in thought in the middle of the countryside

Old friends come flooding back to me

The yellow sun turns the garden and hills purple

Leaves sway, leaves let the wind whisper

Now hand in hand

Tug of war, playing marbles and smashing potatoes and fields

Now it's not you, me,

Grapefruit kite with fish pond

The river is now quiet with the sound of ferrymen calling.

The green drifts on both banks, chattering away

Dizzy with what teachers said

Empty white clouds absentmindedly missing you

Fragile layer, seat

But believe in the shadow of the distant past

The afternoon is slow and nostalgic

A white stork flaps the days away.

Nguyen Dang Viet

* White cotton

Like moss lit up from a pocket of sunlight

Crystal clear sounds

The sparkling laughter

The first stroke of the pen bursts into memories

Time flies

School is here!

"The teacher turned into chalk dust..."

Time

How many ferries have docked?

Surrounded by brocade dreams

We are like shining flower platforms

Time

Chalk dust for germination

heart smiling in chest

The first stroke

Like moss lit up from a pocket of sunlight

Thanks teacher!

Tran Thu Ha