My Dear Việt Nam,

There's no day that I think
To the colors of your charm:
Hoàng, like the sun and the sand, the imperial domain;
Thanh, the green wilderness protecting your heart,
But not only that: the sea and the sky as heaven before my eyes;
Hồng, are the veins, the red flowing blood, that the soil has received, that the earth has  consumed;
And the purity of lotus, born in the mud,
is painted in red but fading into Bạch.