I was born during the days when the country was invaded by the Chinese.
Just a few days old,
Uncle Hảo took my mother, carrying me on a bicycle, to evacuate to my maternal grandparents’ village.
My father stayed in Hanoi to look after my older brother,
Amidst constant anxiety…
And so, I grew up in my grandmother’s arms,
In my maternal hometown of Hưng Yên,
Where the Bắc Hưng Hải River flows gently and poetically…
After the days of bombs and bullets,
My country found peace once again.
In the first grade, I returned to Hanoi,
Returned to the Red River, the Đuống River, and the five radiant gates of the city.
Returned to the tree-lined streets,
Of Trần Phú, Phan Đình Phùng, Hoàng Diệu…
To the rows of tamarind trees, and the bright red flame flowers,
To the street corners covered in the white blossoms of sưa trees,
My Hanoi,
The years of my childhood,
With memories of school days, riding bicycles, picking ti gôn flowers on Hoàng Hoa Thám Street,
A magical Hanoi,
A lush green Hanoi…
After my study oversea,
I came back and moved to Saigon to work.
The city welcomed me with its bustling, vibrant energy.
From Tân Sơn Nhất Airport to Hồ Con Rùa, Đồng Khởi…
Teeming with people and vehicles,
Full of colors.
I rode my bike along Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm,
Then Tôn Đức Thắng, Lê Duẩn, Hàn Thuyên…
These beautiful roads.
The rows of golden oaks and nacre trees, lush and green.
I had already fallen in love with the city…!
Saigon embraced me with love and generous hospitality.
A city with just two seasons, sun and rain, gentle and calm,
Always light and peaceful until one day,
The storm rose!
The entire Ba Son heritage area was suddenly turned into an urban zone!
Then, they brought in machines and cold trucks,
Cruelly sawing the ancient trees into pieces.
I came,
I saw,
And I cried,
Witnessing the savage cuts into the blood-like sap of those trees…
Tôn Đức Thắng, once green and protective,
Now barren,
Blazzing,
Dusty.
My new city had been destroyed!
And that wasn’t all,
In a place I call the “green gem,”
A “gem” lying mysteriously near the city,
Just over an hour’s drive away.
In that place, there was a beautiful green island,
With vast water coconut forests,
Abundant resources and wildlife,
Where the mangrove forest,
Was recognized by Unesco as one of the World biosphere reserves,
Since 2000.
A rare pride!
Where every tired Saigon resident could go,
Swim in the sea,
Eat seafood,
Walk in the forest,
Or ride a boat among rows of trees.
People lovingly call my “gem,”
The green lung,
The water purifier,
The perfect shield for the city.
Yet,
They have also k-i-l-l-e-d it,
With a project given a “beautiful” name by those who turn everything into money and land:
The Cần Giờ Sea-Reclamation Tourism Urban City!!!
Yes,
People still believe,
Humans can “cut through the Trường Sơn mountains,”
Destroy mountains,
Destroy forests,
And now reclaim the ocean!!!
All values once called “heritage”
Are turned into “real estate” in the blink of an eye!
In just a few months,
The project will begin,
With dozens of skyscrapers,
And Saigon will slowly sink,
People will wear masks all the time,
Because of the smoke and dush,
As the tide rises…
Perhaps people will start traveling by boat,
From one skyscraper to visit another.
And as for my hometown of Hanoi,
After the stormy days,
Over 17,000 trees have fallen.
I wonder if people understand,
That one day,
Money will not be able to buy
Clean air to breathe,
Or the shade of trees.
Land deeds for villas will become nothing but scraps of paper.
Because we will no longer stand on Mother Earth,
Everything will scatter,
Drifting,
Amidst the fury of the land and sky,
In darkness,
In nothingness,
And then vanish…
JK, 10/5/2024
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