Poems of Thi Lan Anh Tran (Aschaffenburg, Germany)

AT THE END OF THE WORLD, THERE REMAINS A LULLABY
Authors: Thi Lan Anh Tran (Aschaffenburg, Germany)
Copyright © 2026 – All Rights Reserved

I sing a lullaby to the wind at the world’s edge,
I lull the wandering moon through drifting clouds’ pledge.
I lull myself through solitude’s silent stream,
Where memories tangle like a restless dream.

I lull you into a faraway sleep,
Where rivers turn to mist and quietly weep.
I lull the one I can no longer hold,
Only echoes remain, faint and cold.

A line of poetry—soft as morning dew,
Falls on cold stone and fades out of view.
Old love dissolves into haze and air,
Half still lingering, half nowhere.

If tomorrow’s wind should pass me by,
Let all old mists be released to the sky.
I drift toward the farthest unknown shore,
Where we are lullabies—forevermore.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
This poem was written in a moment of quiet reflection, when memory, love, and the passage of time merged like a thin veil of mist. The “lullaby” in the poem is not merely a sound of comfort, but a metaphor for the fragile yet profound essence of human experience.

I wrote it as a way to preserve the gentle vibrations of the soul, where past and present meet in silence. Not to hold on, but to listen, and to understand.





When Cities Weep
Thi Lan Anh Tran (Aschaffenburg, Germany)
Copyright © 2026 – All Rights Reserved

There was a city by a gentle stream,
Where rooftops glowed in peaceful light;
Children's laughter filled each winding lane,
Now swallowed by the endless night.

On either side stood weary men,
Each heart alive with equal beat.
What mother does not wait in hope?
What wife counts every slow retreat?

Bombs never ask who right may be,
Nor bullets read a flag's design.
The blood they spill is all the same,
And every tear tastes salt with time.

The cities once ablaze with light
Now wear the scars of shattered stone.
The fields that breathed of newborn grain
Lie mute where silent craters groan.

O humankind, from earth we're born,
We long for gentle days to bloom;
To greet each dawn with smiling eyes,
To raise our lives where forests loom.

Do not turn your heart to walls of war,
Nor answer hate with deeper flame.
For every bullet fired at another
Leaves our own humanity in pain.

Remember this: beyond the steel,
Beyond the trenches, smoke, and guns,
A child still waits beside the door,
An old soul wakes till morning comes.

One day, when every rifle sleeps,
The rivers will reflect blue skies;
The ruined cities shall arise
By human hands—not swords that rise.

I dream of birds returning home,
To cross a sky no smoke defiles;
Where hand in hand no borders stand,
And strangers greet with peaceful smiles.

Then history shall gently write:
The greatest triumph ever won
Was never forged through war or might,
But love that made us live as one.

For only love can guard this Earth,
And keep her future bright and free;
So every child may wake each dawn
In peace—for all eternity.

Author's Note
Peace is not merely the silence of guns.
It is the moment when every heart can feel another's sorrow as its own.
And compassion for all humanity remains the greatest power capable of saving our world from every war.