The Anonymous Lover

Translated by Ngoc Minh

The soldier that left the metal helmet here on this riverbank, where are you now? Where are you now? Are you still on this world and battling somewhere up on a high hill or in a deep valley, or perhaps you already left this world to come to the other horizon of the eternal dream…

The helmet that was previously worn on your head would cuddle your dream, the dream of a person…
 

(Read)
Your dream would be as gentle as the gliding clouds in the sky, as smooth as the transition of four seasons. Your dream would be the hearing of crystal clear giggles of few children and a warm nestle of a sweet wife. Isn't it, my dear?

Now, inside the metal helmet that you left on this riverbank, there is solely a frog using the puddle of raining water that accumulated in it as his pond. Inside this lying helmet, the water fully reflects the sky, the gliding clouds, and the four seasons that always cycle: the continual charm of Spring time, the frostiness of bleak Winter, Fall at times gloomy as gray and at other times surprisingly sunny as gold, and the intense heat of blazing Summer.
 

(Sing)
Inside your helmet, the water still reflects the sun at day time, and the moon at night time, or million and million of stars. All are still in there, all are still in there...

But where are you now? A frog is still calling your name in the monsoon, the calling of your name sounded as the sigh echoing from the depth of the earth on our native land. In March, at the beginning of  the rainy season, the calling of your name is mixed in the thunder and lightning, furiously roared as coming from the farthest horizon…
 

Who are you, the soldier that left the metal helmet here on this riverbank? Who are you? Who are you?