Poetic street corners

(Baonghean) - Perhaps it is not by chance that people call autumn the season of love, the season of longing, the season of nostalgia. Autumn comes with a cool breeze blowing into all things, not hot, not cold, just cold enough to blend and linger in the scent of milk flowers. Autumn in Vinh, the mild weather makes us easily drift into endless memories, immerse ourselves in a space of melancholy, tranquility, and suddenly feel our souls light and carefree...

In the hustle and bustle of work, there were times when I thought that leisurely moments of walking and admiring the streets were too luxurious. But on a non-weekend afternoon like today, I could not resist the charm of the autumn streets of Vinh city, Nghe An. You ask, what is on the street? There is nothing on the street except for the things and people that have always been like that. It's just that the streets in autumn have a gentle, poetic and bustling beauty in a different way. "I have been used to walking on this street many times and this time I suddenly feel strange." The lines in the short story by writer Thanh Tinh suddenly appeared in my mind. Oh, that's exactly the feeling, that meaning. Strange yet familiar, familiar yet strange, that's why the street has the power to attract us so much. I remember that writer Thanh Tinh also had lines describing autumn very realistically and full of emotions, starting with simple sentences: "Every year, at the end of autumn, the leaves on the street fall a lot and in the sky there are silver clouds, my heart is filled with fond memories of the first day of school...". It turns out that the autumn memory for writer Thanh Tinh is the first day of school. People living in life will experience many levels of emotions, but perhaps writer Thanh Tinh's feelings about autumn have touched everyone's memories, and perhaps that's why I remember every word in that page of the book even though more than ten years have passed...

I wandered on each street, suddenly realizing that I was on Nguyen Du Street. The road I was walking on was not the road that led me to school. I was born in a poor village, so the school that was associated with my childhood was a thatched roof house covered with palm leaves, hidden behind a hill. When I first went to school, the immature soul of a 7-year-old child was not enough to subtly feel the changes of the earth and sky like the writer Thanh Tinh. At that time, I was just proud and happy because I felt a little older, a little more mature. The children in the countryside like us did not cry, were afraid or cling to their mother's shirt before entering the classroom door, and even took each other to school. Still bewildered, still unfamiliar, but because the village school was where we children often gathered to play hopscotch and marbles every afternoon, the only difference on that first day of school was that each of us brought a bag containing books. When I was in first grade, we didn't have beautiful school bags like now. My parents bought us bags made of colorful fishing line. Children used that bag to go to school, and mothers used it to go to the market...

Hoai Thanh Street, Trung Do Ward (Vinh City).

Walking on the street, feeling the breath of autumn flowing through the rows of trees and leaves, I suddenly realized something quite interesting: many small alleys leading to Nguyen Du Street are named after great writers and poets. Going from the inner city towards Ben Thuy Bridge, the first alley I encountered was named after writer, poet, and literary critic Hoai Thanh, followed by Ngo Tat To Street, then Han Mac Tu Street. Miraculously, those alleys are located close together along the street named after the great poet of the nation, creating a poetic "poet neighborhood". There are many shops and services, but I still feel the peacefulness, gentleness, and romance of the street corners here. Is this the intention of urban planners when naming streets in the inner city? Or are these streets inherently so contemplative? But whatever the reason, I still feel happy because I have just discovered something wonderful in the city I love.

Street names are just names to distinguish the turns, but for each person, those names evoke many associations. Walking under the green canopy of Hoai Thanh Street, Ngo Tat To Street, and Han Mac Tu Street, in my mind clearly appeared the moment when I listened to my teacher commenting on poems when I was still carrying my schoolbag to school. My Literature teacher at that time was often remembered by his students for special things: long white hair, a worn brown leather bag, and a "magical" ruler. We students often joked that this was his "identifying feature". Although he was a Literature teacher, he always carried a wooden ruler under his armpit, and we never saw him use it to teach in class. But his lectures were wonderful, very passionate. Each Literature class was a time when he took his students into the dreamy world of poetry. The teacher recited each verse of Kieu, drawing poetic images in our imaginations, inspiring us, sowing emotions in our hearts to absorb literature. I still remember his lecture on Han Mac Tu's poetry: "Han's poetry is so crazy, sad, and melancholy, but it is the most sensitive lifeblood of anyone. Han's poetry is not for many readers and not read by many people. So after my suggestions, you should take some time alone to ponder. Very good!"... His literature lectures were always left open like that. But we students were very happy, curious and interested in mysterious things. It has been 5, 6 years, we are now each going our separate ways, occasionally having the opportunity to visit our old teacher, he often smiled and praised us for growing up, only he, his white hair and calm face were still the same as before...

Vietnam - Laos Kindergarten on Nguyen Du Street (Vinh City).

On the street I was walking on, there were quite a few bookstores. I came across a little girl about 10 years old looking at the cover of a book outside the store, I approached her and asked: “Which school do you go to?”. The little girl smiled brightly, her bright eyes looked at me and replied: “I finished 5th grade, tomorrow I will go to Trung Do Secondary School, ma’am. Tomorrow is the first day of school, so my mother just bought me new textbooks. The books smell good, ma’am.” The little girl’s innocent words made me smile. There was a time when I was also excited and happy to hold a new book like that, then turn the pages with my friends to see the new and interesting things we were about to learn. Childhood memories passed peacefully with those school seasons.

Lost in thought, I was suddenly startled by the sound of car horns behind me. It was rush hour, the flow of people pouring into the street was getting more and more crowded, many people jostled each other to turn into the gate of the Vietnam - Laos Kindergarten. When the children saw their parents coming to pick them up, they rushed out to hug them happily. Hugs, kisses, sweet words,... I suddenly felt my heart light and strangely peaceful. Happiness is that simple. School and family - the warm homes that nurture children's souls. Autumn, the season of going back to school, the season of love...

Phuong Thao