You grew up on the hill
Among the singing young palm trees
But the wound on your chest is seeping
And time like poison wine soaks into your heart
Do you weep, holding the sorrowful sky?
The birds' nests there are tattered
Sea-pine needles begin to fall
My heart is pierced again
Sea-pine needles, thousands of needles
Why are your eyes still clear?
I've forgotten my young girl's shyness
As I've wandered back on the Trung Du road
Holding you in my arms
In search of that early morning, the sun and wind
I remember myself at twenty
Your lips touching my breast
My hair touching your lips
The sea pine has grown up on the hill
If you lay its golden fruits on the grass
I'll caress them every evening