Very strange; in the gloomy incessant rain in the forest and mountains, why does there appear in front of my eyes a beautiful springtime garden? All the roses, chrysanthemums, peaches… all compete with each other. I and a beloved friend walk together… This peaceful scene is far away, Thuy! When will the Southerners be able to enjoy these beautiful seasons of flowers? Here there are bombs and bullets, sorrow and mourning, heavy in everyone’s life. Just yesterday a badly wounded young man 21 years old called my name hoping I could help him, but I could not, and my tears fell looking at him die in my useless hands. Thuy, in the South the winning flowers of conflict, the heroic flowers, still compete to bloom. All those flowers are of the blood and bones of all the young lives of so many people. I am walking in the South, walking in this garden, my heart so sad and sorrowful, but also filled with admiration and pride when I see these flowers fall. I loved flowers before; now I still love flowers, but now at every step I understand the beauty of these flowers… and the love for these flowers mixes with so many ideas about passion, hate and the pride of the Vietnamese people Thuy! (Are you also a very beautiful flower my dear?)
November 2, 1968. Reading over the letter, I feel sorry about a letter I mailed already. That letter hasn’t arrived there yet, but when it does you will be very sad at all my questions. My dear, I am sorry I was mistaken about your affections for me.
Received a lot of mail; everyone is thinking of me and cares for me. My heart is warmed because I live in a place filled with love.
November 3, 1968. The North has peace now! The sound of bombs stops altogether in my lovely North. My dear North! Happiness is bright in 16 million faces, but the smile on every face there hides sorrow. Because in the South are sorrow, fire and smoke: because the South is still loud with the sounds of fierce devils.
My parents and all my relatives in the North must be very happy today, but they can’t stop thinking of me and the people in the South. Please be happy, even if it not a complete happiness.
November 8, 1968. Sitting by your side holding your hand warm with love, suddenly I feel so sorry when I think that there is no way to protect you. If in this cruel struggle you fall, then I will remember this moment, will remember all my life your eyes bright with love and your warm voice. My dear young man, if this happens, when will the sorrow stop? Every time I hear you say that you love me, I feel very strange. Why can all the revolutionaries care for each other that way, deep and wide as the ocean, a kind of emotion like silver waves… a clean and pure love, very true?
November 10, 1968. All the social events day by day are opened wider to me. The big Provincial Women’s Meeting invites me to attend. The Liberation Youth of the Province has invited me to attend their meeting, but I don’t have status enough to go. In their arrangements there seems to be something unreasonable. Once again I understand more of people’s jealousy: there are still persons unhappy to see their comrades improve.
Please remember all your life these historic minutes of companionship in the life of the Revolution young man!
November 11, 1968. Why am I so sad when everyone goes on their way? I cannot say clearly why. I am really angry that I cannot go to those meetings at which if I were there I would understand and see so many precious things which would help to improve me so very much.
Is there anything else? I want to make clear my feelings but at last I am saddened when they say good-bye, miss them so much when they are far away, and my heart worries for them.
And the sad day last year when I left Pho Hiep? I am surprised that I ask myself again why my heart is so excited by affectionate emotions. Once again I ask this question and the only answer is that my heart is full of life, so a revolution of love is enough to make it excited and to make it tremble.
My dear Thuy! Girl very rich with love; your eyes don’t cry with tears anymore, even with tears of all kinds of sadness. Please smile as though the smile is always there: don’t let anyone discover that behind the smile is a sigh. 25 years old already, please be strong.
