Hue

Oh Hue, Imperial City, where are the ways?
Buildings and houses, why have they faded?
And your bearing, all but gone away.
The Huong Giang, why does it sadly forget to flow?

Was it the sadness and shame so heavy to carry?
Has time in Hue actually ceased?

Truong Tien Bridge immersed in the immense darkness,
But the ferry boats still patiently wait for passengers,
Gia Hoi this evening, houses closed early.
In the small xom, there was no homely smoke.

But only the quiet whispers,
Of stories told, as the earth and my feet quickly spoke.

Edited by Elvira Nguyen, 2021