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Trang thơ- Hội Thi Nhân VN Quốc Tế - IAVP 11.02.2025 10:50
Poems by Tan Van- I Wrote Your Name
19.01.2025 14:55


Writing assessments: 10 evidence ...

I Wrote Your Name

Author: Tan Van


But waves embraced it, hand in hand. 

I carved your name into the stone, 

Yet time wore it, left all alone.


I traced your name across the sky, 

 But winds swept clouds where dreams do lie. 

I etched your name upon the moon, 

Jealous moon erased it soon.


I placed your name among the stars, 

But night concealed it, left no scars. 

I wrote your name o­n snow so white, 

But melting snow took flight.


I forged your name in steel so strong, 

But even steel can't last for long. 

I carved your name in wood so fine, 

But wood will rot, given time.


I penned your name o­n paper fair, 

But ink will fade, time won't spare. 

I stitched your name o­n cloth so dear, 

But washed away, it disappeared.


I wrote your name in every place, 

But none could hold its lasting grace. 

I wrote your name within my heart, 

There it will stay, never to part.

Tan Van


Anh Viết Tên Em

Tác giả: Tân Văn


Anh viết tên em trên cát

Sóng vào cuốn mất tên em

Anh viết tên em trên đá

Đá mòn tên bị lãng quên


Anh viết tên em trên mây

Gió cuốn mây trời tan biến

Anh viết tên em trên trăng

Chị Hằng ghen quá xóa tên


Anh viết tên em trên sao

Sao cũng mờ sau đêm tối

Anh viết tên em trên tuyết

Tuyết tan dấu vết cũng tàn


Anh viết tên em trên thép

Thép đâu chịu nổi thời gian!

Anh viết tên em trên gỗ

Gỗ kia cũng mục có ngày


Anh viết tên em trên giấy

Thời gian làm mực mờ phai

Anh viết tên em trên áo

Giặt nhiều áo rách, tên nhòa


Anh viết tên em khắp nơi

Nhưng không nơi nào giữ mãi

Anh viết tên em trong tim

Suốt đời nằm mãi trong anh


My Dream Flower Girl

Author: Tan Van

Cô Gái Trẻ Xinh Đẹp Bán Hoa Hồng Đỏ ...

I live here too far away.

Want to buy Tet flowers, send them here. 

Here, o­nly snowflakes fall, 

Please send me flowers, wonderful and all.


Roses, lilies, sunflowers too, 

Any flower that brings love anew. 

Sell them all, please don't hold back, 

I'll buy them all, fill my garden's track.


I adore the Apricot Blossom branches the most, 

Living here alone, like a ghost. 

Choose the most beautiful o­nes,

Golden , Jade  colors, don't go awry.


And send me a Peach blossom branch too, 

Looking at flowers, my heart feels anew. 

Seeing flowers, but  not your face, 

How long must I wait for the flower girls grace?


My house is right here Montreal, 

A mile from Royal Mountain's feet. 

A garden of poems, birds chirping sweet,

If you deliver, I'd love to meet.


Please don't refuse, don't fear the distance, 

If it's dark, stay with my insistence. 

A double bed, two pillows await, 

Dreaming of moon and flowers, our love fate.


Tan Van


Rise, O Canada, Stand Tall

In the face of arrogance and madness, 

Canadians unite, with strength and gladness. 

We stand against the storm, unwavering and bold,

Our spirit unbroken, our story unfolds. 

Against the tide, we fight with might, 

Heroes of the North, shining through the night. 

Trump, you are despised, your reign we defy, 

With every breath, we reach for the sky. 

Our hearts beat as o­ne, in this land so grand, 

With courage and grit, we make our stand. 

No more will we bow, no more will we bend, 

For the Maple Leaf, we will defend. 

From coast to coast, our voices rise, 

In unity and strength, under northern skies. 

With "Buy Canadian" as our rallying cry, 

Our industries flourish, reaching high. 

Steelworkers, farmers, all in the fray, 

Together we forge a brighter day. 

Harnessing our resources, with wisdom and might, 

We build a future, burning ever so bright. 

Let Trump underestimate, at his own peril, 

The heart of a nation, that will not be quelled. 

We'll fight for our workers, with passion and grace, 

And leave our mark, o­n time and o­n space. 

So stand up, Canadians, let your voices be heard

 In this fight for our future, every single word. 

With courage and grit, and a spirit so bold, 

A new chapter we’ll write, a story to be told. 

No more disrespect for this Maple land, 

No more hurting the pride of Canadian. 

We are a people of strong will and good heart, 

But our spine cannot be bent, nor torn apart. 

Trump's term may stretch, but we stand strong, 

With patriotism in abundance, where we belong. 

Our nation will ever last, with strength as our guide, 

Together we rise, with Canadian pride. 

Never again be so arrogant, 

Your own people face enough torment.

 Who in the world wants to be the 51st state? 

Canada stands tall, with a future so great.

Old Man Trump, the Tariff King

Old Man Trump, the tariff king, 

With heavy hands, he pulls the string. 

He bullies Canada, makes them pay, 

Driving our neighbors far away. 

Oh, the lines he draws, the hurt he sows, 

In trade battles, his arrogance grows. 

The farmers cry, the workers moan, 

While he sits high o­n his gilded throne. 

Tariffs rise, and tensions flare, 

Old Man Trump, do you even care? 

Your greed blinds you to the harm, 

As you pledge to keep the profits warm. 

Canada's hope, a neighborly tie, 

But you cut the bond and let it die. 

No, no, Old Man Trump! 

You’ve turned goodwill into a dump! 

So here's a call to stand up strong, 

To fight against what’s clearly wrong. 

Let’s build bridges, not walls of hate, 

And end this tariff bully fate!

A Call to Action

The whole mankind, please witness, 

No friendship with the United States. 

Just look at Canada, not too far, 

Trump wants to take over with a tariff war. 

So together, let's do business, 

Never again with the U. S. 

Support Canada in this trade war, 

We trade without America.



Lève-toi, Ô Canada, Reste Debout

Face à l'arrogance et à la folie, 
Les Canadiens s'unissent, avec force et joie. 
Nous faisons face à la tempête, inébranlables et audacieux, 
Notre esprit intact, notre histoire se déroule. 
Contre la marée, nous luttons avec puissance, 

Héros du Nord, brillant à travers la nuit. 
Trump, tu es méprisé, nous défions ton règne, 
À chaque souffle, nous atteignons le ciel. 
Nos cœurs battent à l'unisson, dans ce pays si grand, 
Avec courage et détermination, nous prenons position. 

Nous ne nous inclinerons plus, nous ne plierons plus, 
Pour la Feuille d'érable, nous défendrons. 
D'un océan à l'autre, nos voix s'élèvent, 
Dans l'unité et la force, sous les cieux du Nord. 

Avec "Achetez Canadien" comme cri de ralliement, 
Nos industries prospèrent, atteignant des sommets. 
Travailleurs de l'acier, agriculteurs, tous dans la mêlée, 
Ensemble, nous forgeons un avenir plus radieux. 
Exploiter nos ressources, avec sagesse et puissance, 

Nous construisons un avenir, brillant de mille feux. 
Que Trump sous-estime, à ses propres risques, 
Le cœur d'une nation, qui ne sera pas étouffé. 
Nous nous battrons pour nos travailleurs, avec passion et grâce, 
Et laisserons notre empreinte, dans le temps et l'espace. 

Alors, levez-vous, Canadiens, faites entendre vos voix, 
Dans cette lutte pour notre avenir, chaque mot compte. 
Avec courage et détermination, et un esprit si audacieux, 
Nous écrirons un nouveau chapitre, une histoire à raconter. 

Plus de manque de respect pour cette terre d'érable, 
Plus de blessures à la fierté canadienne. 
Nous sommes un peuple de volonté forte et de bon cœur, 
Mais notre colonne vertébrale ne peut être pliée, ni déchirée. 
Le mandat de Trump peut s'étendre, mais nous restons forts, 

Avec un patriotisme en abondance, là où nous appartenons. 
Notre nation durera toujours, avec la force comme guide, 
Ensemble, nous nous élevons, avec la fierté canadienne. 
Ne sois plus jamais si arrogant, 

Ton propre peuple fait face à assez de tourments. 
Le Canada reste debout, avec un avenir si grand.
Qui dans le monde veut être le 51e état? 
À bas Trump, les tarifs, l'arrogance!"

Vieux Trump, le Roi des Tarifs

Vieux Trump, le roi des tarifs, 
Avec des mains lourdes, il tire les ficelles. 
Il intimide le Canada, les fait payer, 
Éloignant nos voisins. 

Oh, les lignes qu'il trace, les blessures qu'il sème, 
Dans les batailles commerciales, son arrogance grandit. 
Les agriculteurs pleurent, les travailleurs gémissent, 
Tandis qu'il siège haut sur son trône doré. 

Les tarifs augmentent, et les tensions s'enflamment, 
Vieux Trump, t'en soucies-tu même? 
Ton avidité te rend aveugle au mal, 
Alors que tu promets de garder les profits au chaud. 

L'espoir du Canada, un lien de voisinage, 
Mais tu coupes le lien et le laisses mourir. 
Non, non, Vieux Trump! 
Tu as transformé la bonne volonté en décharge! 

Alors voici un appel à se lever fort, 
À lutter contre ce qui est clairement mauvais. 
Construisons des ponts, pas des murs de haine, 
Et mettons fin à ce destin de tyran des tarifs!

Un Appel à l'Action

Toute l'humanité, soyez témoins, 
Pas d'amitié avec les États-Unis. 
Regardez simplement le Canada, pas trop loin, 
Trump veut prendre le contrôle avec une guerre tarifaire. 
Alors ensemble, faisons des affaires, 
Jamais plus avec les États-Unis. 
Soutenez le Canada dans cette guerre commerciale, 
Nous commerçons sans l'Amérique.

Long Van



Ode à Nos Trésors Nationaux

Dans la terre de la feuille d'érable,
 fière et libre, Où les montagnes rencontrent les océans, et les prairies s'étendent, 
 Nous nous tenons unis, forts et audacieux, 
 Notre esprit canadien, une histoire à raconter.

Des mains de nos fermiers, le sol qu'ils cultivent, 
 Aux artisans talentueux dont les métiers transcendent, 
Chaque produit fabriqué sur cette terre sacrée, 
Est un témoignage de la force que nous avons trouvée.

Oh, Canada, dans chaque point et grain, 
Un amour pour notre patrie, à jamais demeurera. 
De la morsure de l'hiver à l'ardeur de l'été, 
Nos trésors nationaux, nous les louons fièrement.

Dans chaque coupe de bois et pli de métal, 
 Nous fortifions notre nation, d'un bout à l'autre. 
 Avec chaque achat, un vote nous jetons, 
 Pour un avenir brillant, et un héritage à durer.

Des villes animées aux villes tranquilles, 
Nos produits canadiens, avec fierté nous couronnons. 
Dans chaque transaction, une promesse que nous tenons, 
 Pour enrichir notre peuple, d'un océan à l'autre, en profondeur.

Oh, Canada, dans chaque point et grain, 
 Un amour pour notre patrie, à jamais demeurera. 
 De la morsure de l'hiver à l'ardeur de l'été, 
 Nos trésors nationaux, nous les louons fièrement.

Levons-nous ensemble, main dans la main, 
 Soutenant nos industries, à travers ce pays. 
 Pour la souveraineté et la prospérité, nous luttons, 
 Dans notre esprit canadien, nous prospérerons toujours.

Oh, Canada, dans chaque point et grain, 
Un amour pour notre patrie, à jamais demeurera. 
De la morsure de l'hiver à l'ardeur de l'été, 
Nos trésors nationaux, nous les louons fièrement.

Avec des cœurs en feu et des esprits élevés, 
 Nous avancerons, atteignant le ciel. 
 Pour la terre que nous aimons, nous défendrons toujours, 
 Notre héritage canadien, une histoire sans fin.

Oh, Canada, dans chaque point et grain, 
Un amour pour notre patrie, à jamais demeurera. 
De la morsure de l'hiver à l'ardeur de l'été, 
Nos trésors nationaux, nous les louons fièrement.

Ode to Our Homegrown Treasures

In the land of the maple leaf, proud and free, 
Where mountains meet oceans, and prairies spree, 
We stand united, strong, and bold, 
Our Canadian spirit, a tale to be told.

From the hands of our farmers, the soil they tend, 
To the skilled artisans whose crafts transcend, 
Each product made o­n this hallowed ground, I
s a testament to the strength we've found.

Oh, Canada, in every stitch and grain, 
A love for our homeland, forever will remain. 
From winter's bite to summer's blaze, 
Our homegrown treasures, we proudly praise.

In every lumber's cut and metal's bend, 
We fortify our nation, from end to end. 
With every purchase, a vote we cast, 
For a future bright, and a legacy to last.

From the bustling cities to the quiet towns, 
Our Canadian products, with pride we crown. 
In each transaction, a promise we keep, 
To enrich our people, from sea to sea, deep.

Oh, Canada, in every stitch and grain, 
A love for our homeland, forever will remain. 
From winter's bite to summer's blaze, 
Our homegrown treasures, we proudly praise.

Let us rise together, hand in hand, 
Supporting our industries, across this land. 
For sovereignty and prosperity, we strive, 
In our Canadian spirit, we'll always thrive.
Oh, Canada, in every stitch and grain, 
A love for our homeland, forever will remain. 
From winter's bite to summer's blaze, 
Our homegrown treasures, we proudly praise.
With hearts o­n fire and spirits high, 
We'll forge ahead, reaching for the sky. 
For the land we love, we'll always defend, 
Our Canadian legacy, a tale without end.

Oh, Canada, in every stitch and grain, 
A love for our homeland, forever will remain. 
From winter's bite to summer's blaze, 
Our homegrown treasures, we proudly praise.

Long Van

Roses of Eternal Love for Valentine 
Dedicated to Ukrainian soldiers and their lovers

By Long Van

On Valentine’s Day, Rose held a red rose dear, 
 A student of dreams, in youthful prose so clear. 
One cold winter’s afternoon, fate took its stand, 
With a red rose in hand, he ventured, heart unplanned.

Stirred by the pulse of first love, pure and true, 
Her tender heart whispered of love to pursue. 
“You are the o­ne, my dear,” she swore o­n that day, 
“Together forever, in love, we’ll stay.”

That winter Valentine’s Day, love filled the air, 
A bouquet arrived, wrapped with tenderest care. 
A card inscribed by his gentle hand, 
The flowers bloomed bright, at love's command.

But alas, the homeland beckoned, defenders so bold, 
He laid down his pen, his dreams left untold. 
With drums echoing deep, he bid her goodbye, 
To the battlefield’s roar, where hearts learn to sigh.

Before he departed, with resolve in his soul, 
He sought out a florist, a plan to console. 
A hundred times he paid, before taking flight, 
Wrote a hundred cards, his love's guiding light.

In the chaos of war, as soldiers marched o­n, 
Who can promise return when hope is all gone? 
With each victory earned, and solemn oaths sworn, 
He fought fiercely, for love’s endless dawn.

Yet fate’s cruel hand struck, he fell far from home, 
Her heart shattered, in sorrow's silent roam. 
At his grave, she wept, in love's tender embrace, 
Dreaming of a life they would never face.

Through winter after winter, in war’s bitter clasp, 
On Valentine’s Day, the florist's task, 
Was to deliver roses, with a love-laden card, 
From her soldier, who loved her, his heart ever scarred.

"I love you," he wrote, "more than the years before, 
Even death cannot sever this love, so pure. 
Though we are now apart, in realms yet unseen, 
Our love shines bright, like an eternal dream."

She held tight to the thought, before he took flight, 
That the roses would come, with all of his might. 
Every year o­n that day, filled with sacred trust, 
She cherished the memories of their bond, robust.

Years danced forward, the war long behind, 
A chance visit led her to the hill, where love intertwined. 
Reading of two lovers, o­n a shared tombstone, T
his poem I penned, with a heart that moans.

Her name was Rose, with a love for red flowers, 
A pure, innocent student, in youthful hours. 
One winter afternoon, fate brought her a man, 
With bright rose petals, love's journey began.

Moved by the poetry of first love’s delight, 
 Young hearts swore to be faithful, day and night. “
You are the o­ne I love forever, my dear,” 
“And I promise to be faithful, year after year.”

That winter Valentine’s Day, love in the air, 
 A bouquet of roses was sent with tender care. 
With a card, hand-written by his gentle hand,
Flowers blooming in a fresh winter's land.

But the homeland echoed, the enemy's call, 
Pens were folded, and soldiers stood tall. 
On the day of war, he bid his love goodbye, M
onths of training led him to the border, to defy.

With a heart full of zeal, he marched to his fate, 
He visited the florist, to seal love's state. 
A hundred times he paid, before walking away, 
Hundreds of cards written, for love to convey.

In chaos and war, dates are hard to set, 
Who can promise return, without regret? 
With each victory, oaths were sworn, 
Then he fell in the border region, love torn.

She was in pain, wishing to die, but feared, 
 No o­ne left to raise her parents, dear. 
 His grave was built o­n a pine hill's crest, 
 And fresh roses were planted, love’s eternal testament.

Life passed with days of bitter sorrow, 
Winter returned, war’s shadow to follow. 
On Valentine's Day, the florist sent anew, 
Bouquet of roses with a love card, true.

“I love you more than last year,” he penned, 
“The difference between worlds cannot our love end.
” She was certain he had arranged this sweet grace, 
Before leaving for battle, in love’s warm embrace.

Respecting the roses, memories surged, 
Old times full of nostalgia, love’s urge. 
 She cherished them, placed them by his portrait, 
 Of a husband never married, by fate’s cruel bait.

Years passed, Valentine's Day returned, 
 Birds sang, winds gently turned. 
 Lonely in her small house, memories to hold, 
 A knock o­n the door, a story unfolds.


The person delivering roses brought them near.
With a card, “I Love You, dear.” 
Stunned, she asked the flower bearer, 
Was told her lover ordered flowers forever.

A hundred times, his love, a decree, Echoed 
"I love you forever," eternally. 
Pain surged, yet death she'd defy, 
No o­ne to raise her parents high.

His grave o­n the pine hill, roses so bright, 
Life stolen by war's cruel blight. 
Each Valentine's Day, a florist's sweet art, 
Delivered roses, a message from his heart.

"Our love transcends worlds, though fate may divide, 
My love for you, forever will abide. 
I wish you happiness, though worlds keep us apart, 
Flowers of love, a memory in your heart.

Each winter's Valentine, stay home, my dear, 
Receive these roses, our love so near. 
Though knocks may go unanswered, and silence may reign,
Love's truth will endure, through sunshine and rain.

Thrice they will come, if no soul they find, 
 Roses they'll take to the red flower hill enshrined. 
Where our spirits unite, as o­ne we shall be, 
 'I love you,' my roses whisper, for all eternity."

On Valentine's Day, may this tale of love, 
 Forever remain, like the stars above.
On the celebration of Valentine's Day, 
May this tale of love, forever stay. 💖🌹


Roses of Love for Valentine
Dedicated to Ukrainian soldiers and their lovers

*By Long Van*

On Valentine’s Day, she held a red rose dear,
A student of dreams, in youthful prose so clear.
One cold winter’s afternoon, fate took its stand,
With a red rose in hand, he ventured, heart unplanned.

Stirred by the pulse of first love, pure and true,
Her tender heart whispered of love to pursue.
“You are the o­ne, my dear,” she swore o­n that day,
“Together forever, in love, we’ll stay.”

That winter Valentine’s Day, love filled the air,
A bouquet arrived, wrapped with tenderest care.
A card inscribed by his gentle hand,
The flowers bloomed bright, at love's command.

But alas, the homeland beckoned, defenders so bold,
He laid down his pen, his dreams left untold.
With drums echoing deep, he bid her goodbye,
To the battlefield’s roar, where hearts learn to sigh.

Before he departed, with resolve in his soul,
He sought out a florist, a plan to console.
A hundred times he paid, before taking flight,
Wrote a hundred cards, his love's guiding light.

In the chaos of war, as soldiers marched o­n,
Who can promise return when hope is all gone?
With each victory earned, and solemn oaths sworn,
He fought fiercely, for love’s endless dawn.

Yet fate’s cruel hand struck, he fell far from home,
Her heart shattered, in sorrow's silent roam.
At his grave, she wept, in love's tender embrace,
Dreaming of a life they would never face.

Through winter after winter, in war’s bitter clasp,
On Valentine’s Day, the florist's task,
Was to deliver roses, with a love-laden card,
From her soldier, who loved her, his heart ever scarred.

"I love you," he wrote, "more than the years before,
Even death cannot sever this love, so pure.
Though we are now apart, in realms yet unseen,
Our love shines bright, like an eternal dream."

She held tight to the thought, before he took flight,
That the roses would come, with all of his might.
Every year o­n that day, filled with sacred trust,
She cherished the memories of their bond, robust.

Years danced forward, the war long behind,
A chance visit led her to the hill, where love intertwined.
Reading of two lovers, o­n a shared tombstone,
This poem I penned, with a heart that moans.

Her name was Rose, with a love for red flowers,
A pure, innocent student, in youthful hours.
One winter afternoon, fate brought her a man,
With bright rose petals, love's journey began.

Moved by the poetry of first love’s delight,
Young hearts swore to be faithful, day and night.
“You are the o­ne I love forever, my dear,”
“And I promise to be faithful, year after year.”

That winter Valentine’s Day, love in the air,
A bouquet of roses was sent with tender care.
With a card, hand-written by his gentle hand,
Flowers blooming in a fresh winter's land.

But the homeland echoed, the enemy's call,
Pens were folded, and soldiers stood tall.
On the day of war, he bid his love goodbye,
Months of training led him to the border, to defy.

With a heart full of zeal, he marched to his fate,
He visited the florist, to seal love's state.
A hundred times he paid, before walking away,
Hundreds of cards written, for love to convey.

In chaos and war, dates are hard to set,
Who can promise return, without regret?
With each victory, oaths were sworn,
Then he fell in the border region, love torn.

She was in pain, wishing to die, but feared,
No o­ne left to raise her parents, dear.
His grave was built o­n a pine hill's crest,
And fresh roses were planted, love’s eternal testament.

Life passed with days of bitter sorrow,
Winter returned, war’s shadow to follow.
On Valentine's Day, the florist sent anew,
Bouquet of roses with a love card, true.

“I love you more than last year,” he penned,
“The difference between worlds cannot our love end.”
She was certain he had arranged this sweet grace,
Before leaving for battle, in love’s warm embrace.

Respecting the roses, memories surged,
Old times full of nostalgia, love’s urge.
She cherished them, placed them by his portrait,
Of a husband never married, by fate’s cruel bait.

Years passed, Valentine's Day returned,
Birds sang, winds gently turned.
Lonely in her small house, memories to hold,
A knock o­n the door, a story unfolds.

The person delivering roses brought them near,
With a card, “I Love You, dear.”
Stunned, she asked the flower bearer,
Was told her lover ordered flowers forever.

A hundred times, his love, a decree,
Echoed "I love you forever," eternally.
Pain surged, yet death she'd defy,
No o­ne to raise her parents high.

His grave o­n the pine hill, roses so bright,
Life stolen by war's cruel blight.
Each Valentine's Day, a florist's sweet art,
Delivered roses, a message from his heart.

"Our love transcends worlds, though fate may divide,
My love for you, forever will abide.
I wish you happiness, though worlds keep us apart,
Flowers of love, a memory in your heart.

Each winter's Valentine, stay home, my dear,
Receive these roses, our love so near.
Though knocks may go unanswered, and silence may reign,
Love's truth will endure, through sunshine and rain.

Thrice they will come, if no soul they find,
Roses they'll take to the red flower hill enshrined.
Where our spirits unite, as o­ne we shall be,
'I love you,' my roses whisper, for all eternity."

On Valentine's Day, may this tale of love,
Forever remain, like the stars above.

On the celebration of Valentine's Day, 
May this tale of love, forever stay. 💖🌹


Les Roses Éternel pour la Saint-Valentin 
Dédié aux soldats ukrainiens et à leurs amoureux


En ce jour de la Saint-Valentin, Rose tenait une ro
se rouge précieuse,
Une étudiante de rêves, dans une prose juvénile si claire.
Un froid après-midi d'hiver, le destin prit position,
Avec une rose rouge à la main, il s'aventura, cœur non planifié.

Ému par le souffle du premier amour, pur et vrai,
Son cœur tendre chuchotait de poursuivre l'amour.
"Tu es le seul, mon cher," jura-t-elle ce jour-là,
"Ensemble pour toujours, dans l'amour, nous resterons."

Ce jour de la Saint-Valentin d'hiver, l'amour remplissait l'air,
Un bouquet arriva, enveloppé de soins tendres.
Une carte inscrite de sa main douce,
Les fleurs s'épanouissaient, à l'ordre de l'amour.

Mais hélas, la patrie appelait, des défenseurs si courageux,
Il déposa son stylo, ses rêves laissés non dits.
Avec des tambours résonnant profondément, il lui fit ses adieux,
Au rugissement du champ de bataille, où les cœurs apprennent à soupirer.

Avant de partir, avec une résolution dans son âme,
Il chercha un fleuriste, un plan pour consoler.
Cent fois il paya, avant de prendre son envol,
Écrivant cent cartes, la lumière guide de son amour.

Dans le chaos de la guerre, alors que les soldats avançaient,
Qui peut promettre de revenir quand tout espoir est parti?
Avec chaque victoire remportée, et des serments solennels prêtés,
Il se battait férocement, pour l'aube sans fin de l'amour.

Pourtant, la main cruelle du destin frappa, il tomba loin de chez lui,
Son cœur brisé, dans l'errance silencieuse du chagrin.
À sa tombe, elle pleurait, dans l'étreinte tendre de l'amour,
Rêvant d'une vie qu'ils ne connaîtraient jamais.

À travers hiver après hiver, dans l'étreinte amère de la guerre,
Le jour de la Saint-Valentin, la tâche du fleuriste,
Était de livrer des roses, avec une carte chargée d'amour,
De son soldat, qui l'aimait, son cœur toujours blessé.

"Je t'aime," écrivait-il, "plus que les années d'avant,
Même la mort ne peut rompre cet amour si pur.
Bien que nous soyons maintenant séparés, dans des royaumes encore invisibles,
Notre amour brille, comme un rêve éternel."

Elle s'accrochait à cette pensée, avant qu'il ne prenne son envol,
Que les roses viendraient, de toutes ses forces.
Chaque année ce jour-là, remplie de confiance sacrée,
Elle chérissait les souvenirs de leur lien, robuste.

Les années dansaient en avant, la guerre depuis longtemps terminée,
Une visite fortuite l'amena à la colline, où l'amour s'entrelace.
Lisant sur deux amants, sur une pierre tombale partagée,
Ce poème, j'ai écrit, avec un cœur qui gémit.

Son nom était Rose, avec un amour pour les fleurs rouges,
Une étudiante pure, innocente, dans les heures juvéniles.
Un après-midi d'hiver, le destin lui apporta un homme,
Avec des pétales de rose brillants, le voyage de l'amour commença.

Ému par la poésie du premier amour,
Les jeunes cœurs jurèrent d'être fidèles, jour et nuit.
"Tu es celui que j'aime pour toujours, mon cher,"
"Et je promets d'être fidèle, année après année."

Ce jour de la Saint-Valentin d'hiver, l'amour dans l'air,
Un bouquet de roses fut envoyé avec soin tendre.
Avec une carte, écrite à la main par sa douce main,
Les fleurs s'épanouissaient dans une terre d'hiver fraîche.

Mais la patrie résonnait, l'appel de l'ennemi,
Les stylos furent repliés, et les soldats se dressaient.
Le jour de la guerre, il fit ses adieux à son amour,
Des mois d'entraînement le conduisirent à la frontière, à défier.

Avec un cœur plein de zèle, il marcha vers son destin,
Il visita le fleuriste, pour sceller l'état de l'amour.
Cent fois il paya, avant de s'éloigner,
Des centaines de cartes écrites, pour exprimer l'amour.

Dans le chaos et la guerre, les dates sont difficiles à fixer,
Qui peut promettre de revenir, sans regret?
Avec chaque victoire, des serments furent prêtés,
Puis il tomba dans la région frontalière, l'amour déchiré.

Elle était en douleur, souhaitant mourir, mais craignait,
Qu'il ne reste personne pour élever ses parents, chers.
Sa tombe fut bâtie sur le sommet d'une colline de pins,
Et des roses fraîches furent plantées, testament éternel de l'amour.

La vie passa avec des jours de chagrin amer,
L'hiver revint, l'ombre de la guerre à suivre.
Le jour de la Saint-Valentin, le fleuriste envoyait à nouveau,
Un bouquet de roses avec une carte d'amour, vrai.

"Je t'aime plus que l'année passée," écrivait-il,
"La différence entre les mondes ne peut pas notre amour finir."
Elle était certaine qu'il avait arrangé cette douce grâce,
Avant de partir pour la bataille, dans l'étreinte chaude de l'amour.

Respectant les roses, les souvenirs surgirent,
Les vieux temps pleins de nostalgie, le besoin d'amour.
Elle les chérissait, les plaçait près de son portrait,
D'un mari jamais marié, par le cruel sort.

Les années passèrent, le jour de la Saint-Valentin revint,
Les oiseaux chantaient, les vents se tournaient doucement.
Seule dans sa petite maison, des souvenirs à tenir,
Un coup à la porte, une histoire se dévoile.

La personne livrant des roses les apporta près d'elle,
Avec une carte, "Je t'aime, ma chère."
Stupéfaite, elle demanda au porteur de fleurs,
On lui dit que son amour avait commandé des fleurs pour toujours.

Cent fois, son amour, un décret,
Répétait "Je t'aime pour toujours," éternellement.
La douleur surgit, pourtant la mort elle défia,
Personne pour élever ses parents haut.

Sa tombe sur la colline de pins, des roses si brillantes,
La vie volée par la cruauté de la guerre.
Chaque jour de la Saint-Valentin, l'art doux du fleuriste,
Livrait des roses, un message de son cœur.

"Notre amour transcende les mondes, bien que le destin nous divise,
Mon amour pour toi, à jamais perdurera.
Je te souhaite le bonheur, bien que les mondes nous séparent,
Des fleurs d'amour, un souvenir dans ton cœur.

Chaque Saint-Valentin d'hiver, reste à la maison, ma chère,
Reçois ces roses, notre amour si proche.
Bien que les coups puissent rester sans réponse, et que le silence règne,
La vérité de l'amour durera, à travers le soleil et la pluie.

Trois fois ils viendront, si aucune âme ils ne trouvent,
Les roses ils prendront à la colline des fleurs rouges enshrined.
Où nos esprits s'unissent, comme un nous serons,
"Je t'aime," murmurent mes roses, pour l'éternité."

En ce jour de la Saint-Valentin, que cette histoire d'amour,
Reste à jamais, comme les étoiles au-dessus.

Long Van

Hoa Hồng Lễ Tình Yêu

(Tặng những người đã yêu, đang yêu và sắp yêu)
Nàng tên Hồng yêu loài hoa màu đỏ
Nữ sinh viên còn trong trắng thơ ngây

Một chiều Xuân bỗng có một chàng trai
Đến tỏ tình với cánh Hồng tươi thắm
Nàng cảm động mối tình đầu thơ mộng
Trái tim non nguyền chung thuỷ suốt đời
Anh là người em yêu mãi anh ơi
Và trung thành trọn đời em xin hứa
Vào ngày Lễ Tình Yêu mùa Xuân đó
Một bó hồng được gởi đến nhà nàng
Kèm thiệp Tình Yêu viết bởi tay chàng
Hoa khoe sắc giữa ngày Xuân tươi mát
Rồi quê hương bỗng vang rền súng giặc
Xếp bút nghiên theo tiếng gọi lên đường
Ngày tòng chinh chàng từ giã người thương
Sau những tháng quân trường, ra biên ải
Trên đường hành quân, lòng trai hăng hái
Chàng đến tìm chủ nhân của tiệm hoa
Trả trăm lần, trước khi bước đi xa
Viết trăm thiệp và dặn dò chủ tiệm
Thời loạn ly, người đi trong chinh chiến
Hẹn ngày đi, ai hẹn được ngày về!
Những chiến công hiển hách với lời thề
Rồi chàng hy sinh nơi miền biên ải
Nàng đau đớn muốn chết theo, nhưng ngại
Không còn ai để nuôi nấng song thân
Mộ của chàng nàng xây tại đồi thông
Và đến trồng những hoa hồng tươi thắm
Cuộc đời trôi với chuỗi ngày cay đắng
Mùa Xuân sau vẫn trong lửa chiến tranh
Lễ Tình Yêu tiệm hoa gởi đến nàng
Bó hoa hồng với thiệp yêu chàng viết
Rằng anh yêu em nhiều hơn năm trước
Cách âm dương không cách được ân tình
Nàng đinh ninh chàng đã lỡ đặt tiền
Trước ngày lên đường đi ra chiến trận
Nhìn những hoa hồng với bao trân trọng
Kỹ niệm xưa đầy luyến tiếc, nhớ nhung...
Nàng nâng niu để bên cạnh chân dung
Của người chồng chưa bao giờ được cưới
Nhìn lưu luyến hoa tình yêu lần cuối...
Nhưng năm sau cũng vào Lễ Tình Yêu
Một chiều Xuân, chim hót, gió hiu hiu
Nàng cô đơn trong một căn nhà nhỏ
Ôn kỷ niệm với bao nhiêu gắn bó
Bỗng tai nghe tiếng cửa gõ bên ngoài
Người giao hoa hồng mang đến tận tay
Kèm với thiệp Anh Yêu Em trìu mến
Nàng sững sờ hỏi người giao hoa đến
Được trả lời rằng trước lúc lên đường
Người yêu đặt hoa cho một trăm lần
Và trăm thiệp Anh Yêu Em mãi mãi
Nàng mở thiệp có thư tình để lại
Em yêu ơi một năm đã trôi qua
Âm dương bây giờ hai đứa cách xa
Anh hiểu nỗi cô đơn và đau khổ
Tình của anh vẫn không hề thay đổi
Không lời nào tả nổi được lòng anh
Anh muốn em hạnh phúc ở trần gian
Nên đặt hoa mang tên Em yêu mến
Mỗi độ Xuân về Lễ Tình Yêu đến
Em cứ ở nhà để đón nhận hoa
Nhớ những ngày kỷ niệm của đôi ta
Mỗi bó hoa giao đúng ngày lễ đó
Chỉ tới khi nào cửa người ta gõ
Không ai trả lời, họ mới ngưng giao
Họ đến ba lần nếu chẳng thấy ai
Thì họ sẽ theo lời anh ghi rõ
Mang bó hồng lên đỉnh đồi hoa đỏ
Nơi ta bên nhau như cặp vợ chồng
Anh yêu Em nên anh thích hoa Hồng...
.....................................................
Bao nhiêu năm sau cuộc chiến đã tàn
Có dịp dừng chân bên đồi hoa đỏ
Đọc chuyện hai người khắc trên đôi mộ
Tôi chạnh lòng viết nên một bài thơ
Vào ngày đầu Xuân nhân Lễ Tình Yêu


(Ðể tưởng niệm những cuộc tình tang thương thời chinh chiến)

Tân Văn (Canada)

Red Roses' Sticker | Spreadshirt



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