The Song of Vietnam (a poem reflecting on the ten-year war)

The Song of Vietnam
(a poem reflecting on the ten-year war)


For ten years together, the Presidents of the United States,
the Lords and Kings of other countries tried to subjugate
the lands of Vietnam.
From the inner southern jungles to the sea-coast they had
conquered most all the land; although,
the north was there before them, left to sand.
Yet, there was no town nor village uncrushed by this plight,
save only Hanoi that stood on the north’s side.
And at the war’s end, even they, the American’s bombed
that city, in which no beauty was found
no love for democracy, or the Christian God; they worshiped
Buddha and Confucian traditions.
Nor could they shun the evil fortune that beleaguered them
thereafter.



II. The Armies were gathered more than five-hundred thousand
men: not counting the enemies (this was the forth occupation,
one with Japan, China and the French, now America).
“Here now has come the President of America,” cried the Vietcong,
“to our land to overthrow us!”
They had no equal in weaponry to meet the Eagle with its might,
nor enough henchmen to beat them in any fight.
But a wise man gave them counsel, saying “Wait…
time is not a virtue to the enemy, it brings to them, a slow death
among their kind, and shame.”
All listened, save the Americans and they came, and came and came



III. Among the wisest this man was known to be, called,
Hoe Ch Minh (revolutionist, statesmen)
And a good vassal, he seemed to be, a man of humble beginnings.
Shrewd he was, and skilful, politically cunning,
And he spoke unto the king of France, on a treaty.
(But to be dismayed soon thereafter.)
“But send us Chiang Kai-shek,” cried, but Chiang Kai-shek
traded Chinese influence in Vietnam for French concessions
in Shanghai, from the arrogant and strong,
and so for the man who once was a cook, and chef,
with promise and faithfulness, service and friendship, he
leaped forward and long, and his dogs fought the lions,
five-hundred thousand of them, like hawks they came well
equipped.
They came with the dollars, and the grit, muscle bombs,
hundreds and hundreds of them, they came like hawks.
And more dollars wherewith to pay the soldiers.
Of his people, three-million would die, perish, by bullets,
mines, Agent Orange and bombs, and much more
They couldn’t die straightway, but they didn’t die like
beggars in their own land, but with honor and dignity.

1-21-2009 (No: 2555)