THE HILLS

The sun is like a bloody face

Sluggishly moving on the hills. Bare.

Wild winds find a place for clinging

Slipped into an immense silence

I am like a dewdrop remaining in the afternoon

Tired in endless journey

Find a peaceful point on the hill of humanity

Everything is silent, everything's lids close tightly

Dreams of sleeps deeply sink into the room of empty soul

Where am I going tonight?

The roads without dawdling and rushing music sounds, empathetic

Only there are innumerable flowers reflection

Silently tormenting thoughts on deserted alleys without lights

I stepped out at dawn from the prairies

Going towards the blue rivers at sunset

And ultimately, I am like a wanderer

Lost in the boundless and boring night ocean

The doors of love are silently closed

Wind in weak blowing, the aspirational drives

Slackly rolling on the path of declining beliefs

On the empty station of life

With a small guitar, I persist in writing songs.

Ngọc Lê Ninh