Saigon at night from Drone view
Autumn Night
At the gate stand the guards, each with rifle;
Ho Chi Minh’s Poetry
Far above sails the moon, with shredded drifted cloud banks.
Swarms of bedbugs manoeuvre like tanks,
Squadrons of mosquitoes attack and retreat, with us they trifle.
My heart travels towards my land,
Sadness overpowers me, my dreams go round and round.
Though I am an innocent man: in chains I am bound,
On captivity I write poems – tears flowing on the inkstand.
Drone at night
Black and white
