Nhật lạc Hàn giang, thủy hỏa thành,
Vân phi hướng viễn, an Ngưu canh.
Huỳnh Long xuất thủy, Thần Ngư tẩm,
Vọng Nguyệt thăng thiên, nhị thủ phanh.

As the sun sinks into the Hàn river, water and fire follow one another,
Clouds move to the distant horizon while the serene buffalo ploughs.
The Yellow Dragon emerges from waters and the Divine Carp submerges,
Gazing at the moon ascending the sky, the two hands held eachother.

Mekong, the grand dame of rivers,
where her daughters flow to visit,
some lovely, some lonely and some both.
Among them are the Tien Giang affluent
and her young daughter An Huu.

An Huu is girdled by lotuses of myriad colors,
the diadem of flora lending An Huu her charms,
white, purple and pink
the lotuses elegantly float on leaf vessels that never sink.

The lake water flows unperturbed,
beautiful lotuses swaying in the moonlight,
As you sleep, your silky strands undisturbed,
beautiful you sailing in a dreamy night.

The lotuses are abodes to creatures that wish to stay unseen,
singing together while watching as the rain splashed and mud splatter.
You parted with the comfort of An Huu at a tender age of sixteen,
seeking to repay the love and kindness of your esteemed mother.

The lotuses are bloomed for worship and to soothe,
the early spring will welcome fresh blossoms from the young shoots.
Now you no longer possess the tenderness of youth,
but you still held strong to your An Huu roots.

If I can find a pink lotus to call my own,
I would name it Diem My, after you.
and I promised to care for it with all I own,
because I can’t find a lady I love more, only you.