Stele oration
The land lighting in the south of country, half connected Truong Son and haft connected delta. Fighting
invaders since Truong Dinh, Truong Quyen, rivers made of soldiers’ blood. At time the country overwhelmed in dark, Nguyen Tat Thanh had compassion for his country, finding future full of smoke at Nha Rong. Guillotines lighting with mortals beheaded, people pained, moaned with cangues; piles of bodies under rains of weapons; deaths being annoyed and tombs being smashed; They tried to change our people into primitive men. Uncle said, “Although Truong Son chains alighted…”, Millions of souls- full of resentment. Guillotine broken by mother’s hands weak, tank’s chain jammed by mother’s body thin. Inhabiting tears she gave weapons to her kids. “Independence prevailed” youths left their homes. Youths as grave as eagle flaps “We will come to where appears enemies”. Saigon City, star glory, “Swear dying before dishonor”. Armies as beautiful as angels, overcoming Truong Son tops passing Cuu Long River, the City being approached. Quan Ho singing, in night, melodious, Cai Luong songs smoothed all ears, Pesto and largo rhythm of Mai Day,
sweet tune make us love our homes. Braves from everywhere met, our country full of heroes. Regulars become guerillas in native place; All country for Saigon and all will sacrifice; Dig up soil and hide underneath, hearts become trenches, eyes turn into stars, hands into swords. Ngua Troi gun, Min Gat, tunnels long along with popularity, guerillas created belt to kill US thieves, days and nights snipers like magicians. Urban guerillas fight in heart of Saigon; Warships, airfield, fuel dumps burned up – Fire in hearts, wake in nights, marches in days, overcome wire fences, cover muzzles, devoted for existence of motherland. Corsairs fears, tons of bomb, band cannons, thunder chiefs, spooks, B52s cover carpets. Gods, people feel spite. The Ho Chi Minh roars as storms howl, as falls down; Generals, soldiers level mountains to reach the City.
invaders since Truong Dinh, Truong Quyen, rivers made of soldiers’ blood. At time the country overwhelmed in dark, Nguyen Tat Thanh had compassion for his country, finding future full of smoke at Nha Rong. Guillotines lighting with mortals beheaded, people pained, moaned with cangues; piles of bodies under rains of weapons; deaths being annoyed and tombs being smashed; They tried to change our people into primitive men. Uncle said, “Although Truong Son chains alighted…”, Millions of souls- full of resentment. Guillotine broken by mother’s hands weak, tank’s chain jammed by mother’s body thin. Inhabiting tears she gave weapons to her kids. “Independence prevailed” youths left their homes. Youths as grave as eagle flaps “We will come to where appears enemies”. Saigon City, star glory, “Swear dying before dishonor”. Armies as beautiful as angels, overcoming Truong Son tops passing Cuu Long River, the City being approached. Quan Ho singing, in night, melodious, Cai Luong songs smoothed all ears, Pesto and largo rhythm of Mai Day,
sweet tune make us love our homes. Braves from everywhere met, our country full of heroes. Regulars become guerillas in native place; All country for Saigon and all will sacrifice; Dig up soil and hide underneath, hearts become trenches, eyes turn into stars, hands into swords. Ngua Troi gun, Min Gat, tunnels long along with popularity, guerillas created belt to kill US thieves, days and nights snipers like magicians. Urban guerillas fight in heart of Saigon; Warships, airfield, fuel dumps burned up – Fire in hearts, wake in nights, marches in days, overcome wire fences, cover muzzles, devoted for existence of motherland. Corsairs fears, tons of bomb, band cannons, thunder chiefs, spooks, B52s cover carpets. Gods, people feel spite. The Ho Chi Minh roars as storms howl, as falls down; Generals, soldiers level mountains to reach the City. Red flags skied up
Irresistible forces
Drive away thieves
Free homeland
Irresistible forces
Drive away thieves Free homeland
Large triumph by large sacrifice. Who can count mourning, measure blood at battles? Her kids have gone and never come back, she cries every sundown … birds fly to mountains, night is falling.
Red flood emits stamp
Hero creates holy land.
Heroes make country larger ,
Patriots make people higher
Alive people love people died,
Carving stone, erecting stele in vast space
Heroes like thousand lighting stars,
Forever shine into hearts of people
Hero creates holy land.
Heroes make country larger ,
Patriots make people higher
Alive people love people died,
Carving stone, erecting stele in vast space
Heroes like thousand lighting stars,
Forever shine into hearts of people