VO THI NHU MAI – A QUIET FLAME AMONG FELLOW ARTISTS

At the recent literary gathering, Vo Thi Nhu Mai made her debut appearance, not with loud declarations, but with a quiet presence that left a warm impression. As a first-time participant, she spent much of the time observing and absorbing the atmosphere around her. Though she spoke little, her attentiveness and gentle smile spoke volumes.

During the program, while others were caught in the bustle of performances and interactions, Võ Thị Như Mai moved gracefully between people, offering small yet thoughtful gestures. One such act stood out: she personally handed each participant a small card with their name written on it, a simple but touching effort to acknowledge and welcome everyone. It was a beautiful moment of connection, reminding us that care and presence can sometimes be more powerful than words.

Her demeanour was soft-spoken, but her actions carried sincerity. Many noted her warm energy, quietly friendly, respectful, and keen to understand the nuances of the gathering. In a space often vibrant with creative voices, Vo Thi Nhu Mai’s quiet kindness was like a calm note in a symphony, and her presence undoubtedly enriched the experience for all who were there.

The literary festival itself was a rich and colourful celebration of poetic voices from around the world. Held in a welcoming space filled with music, laughter, and multilingual readings, it brought together poets, translators, musicians, and friends of literature to share work, ideas, and cross-cultural conversations. Each segment of the program was crafted with care, blending each cultural literature with international voices, allowing a beautiful dialogue of language and soul.

Vo Thi Nhu Mai, though initially quiet, contributed meaningfully to this shared space. She took to the microphone and read her original poem “The Song of Life” in both Vietnamese and English, offering the audience a sincere glimpse into her poetic world. Her delivery was gentle yet confident, her words soaring with listeners across language boundaries. It was a moment of quiet power, her voice steady, her poem luminous.

In another generous act of cultural exchange, Võ Thị Như Mai also read a poem titled “Enjoy” by Greek poet Eva Lianou Petropoulou, further knitting the threads of international friendship. Her choice to present not only her own work but also honour another poet reflected the very spirit of the gathering: connection through words, across cultures, in mutual respect. For a first-time participant, Võ Thị Như Mai left a lasting impression, not just with her poems, but with her grace.

THE SONG OF LIFE

Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai

From: Western Australia

 

If we knew spring would never return

To strum its notes along our wandering path

If we knew the journey would drift afar

If eternity called with a sudden breath

 

If we knew beauty could never be touched

Nor seen through deep brown eyes

If we knew those blue clouds in the heights

Were but a rain falling down with passion

 

If we knew life would bring grace and blessing

Or a simple lesson in a night of getting lost

If we knew our hearts could be fragile

If we knew sorrow could sing a tender lullaby

 

If we knew foamy waves carrying silent love

If we knew sunlight shining on brief blooms

If we knew presence is just a passing moment

The moment a rosebud resting upon our lips

 

If we knew the song of life itself

Could be a pain that healing never finds 

If we knew joy in every word we write

An afternoon translates a lifetime into poetry

 

Enjoy!

From: Greece

As a child

I discover the city lights

Buildings without trees

Water without fishes

The magic city I born

Was a fake town

No masters

No angels

As a child

I sing a lullaby

Every second

My life become a miracle

Hope to get a rainbow

Wait to travel with a unicorn

As Theseus make the world around

For a love

For a word that nobody understand

Filotimo

Mother

Mother, who puts me to sleep, 

The moonlight, 

The darkness disappears after receiving the caress of mother’s hand.

I listen to the story of mother’s face, 

In the land of the princess, 

I get lost in the dream, 

In that unknown land.

Mother, who is the smile on my face, 

The happiness that makes my mind forget, 

When I get mother near me, 

There is no more sorrow. 

Mother, who is full of my love

The bright green sheet,

I was born in my mother’s lap

All my love.

Mother is the language of my mouth

Mother is my land

Holding mother’s gentle hand

I walk with the happiness of my heart

Born today 

From an idea that suddenly flashed 

Among the cherry blossoms, the enchanting spring arrived with the rosy rain of the first kiss to welcome the new life generated today before the poetic triumph in the city cradle of wisdom and creativity.

The open lips to bud color of cherries golden impassioned cherries yearn to join the instant to crown the fleeting moment.

Challenge and play have merged into one to highlight, in the final touch, the eternal skin incarnate on which to write our prayer of love as a hymn sung while hearts dance to the alternating rhythm of sweet melodious notes that reach Paradise.

I will be born with you, raising my goblets to toast 

timid and smiling eyes 

as we say congratulations 

So be for now and always.

Uchechukwu Onyedikam (italic) 

Christina Chin (plain) 


 

harp-lute

a run of melody 

widening 

the baby lulled 

to sleep



watching

two shadows

behind the stacked 

wood pile

newborn puppies 



the soul

entwined with

Gángan

the rhythm of pounding 

prophecies 



harmonic 

phrasing of a dialect

unfamiliar jargons

scripted in my 

prescription slips



twilight corner 

all the memories 

in the shade 

skylight glimmers

the illipe nut canopy 

Orchard of Knives

In the orchard of knives,
the trees whisper your name.

Mouths full of rotten fruit
cackle at the blistered moon.

And you walk through, barefoot,
picking the sharpest blade

to slice out the loneliness
rooted in your throat.

Funeral Shoes

I bought
a pair of funeral
shoes today.
Black leather,
stiff as a scream.
The assistant

smiled
like a woman
flogging coffins.
Thought about
returning them.
Didn’t.
I’ll wear them
everywhere.
To the bar.
To the fights.
To the last
slow dance
on earth.
You never know
when the ground
will open up.
And it’s best
to be ready.

My hero is my father

My father is my hero. For me, my father is brave, a hero and more than any other warrior. People always praise our fathers. It is true that they were also ready to give their lives for the country. But the person always sacrifices his life for you, his children, his family it is your dad. Do you know our saying “My father-my country”?! This was said to our selfless father. When did your father say no to you? He says the truth, but he does think about your future. I love my dad so much.                                                       

About my family:

There is five girls in my family. But my dad doesn’t separate any of us and treats us equally. I have the only dad in the world. Everyone’s dad is a hero for himself or herself and this is absolutely true!

This essay motivated me and I start hard-working.

I want to see this hero like my right hand.

This is my Light and I defend this with my life.