The sun had just set behind the distant trees, the sky gradually sank into a vague abyss, leaving only a few brilliant colors clinging to the horizon. Standing on this side of the Perfume River, looking towards Phu Van Lau, the first rows of lights began to reflect on the water surface. The night river turned into a gentle mirror, fully reflecting the splendor of the city at night. All of it seemed to be a backdrop for the red color of the national flag fluttering on top of the Ky Dai.

In the summer, I often stroll along the ironwood bridge, sit on the familiar wooden bench, and wait for the last glorious moment of sunset. Above, the night has just covered itself with a soft layer of black velvet. When the lights on the bridge are lit, the river immediately becomes strangely brilliant.

I saw children chattering, admiring the magical colors, their eyes shining with excitement. The whispers of admiration from visitors from far away gently drifted into the air. People praised the beautiful city, the pretty river, the brilliant sunset... and I heard it as if someone was pouring honey into my heart.

My hometown is upstream, where two streams converge before flowing into the Perfume River. When I was young, the village had no electricity. On hot summer nights, I often sat on this side of the river, fascinated by the light on the other side. My father often asked: “What is the difference between the two river banks?”. I answered: It is the light.

Without that sparkling light, my village would forever be immersed in darkness and desolation. Perhaps that is why the children on this remote shore always have a desire: when they grow up, they will fly to the other shore, towards the light.

Then, when their wings are wide enough, many people return, gently sowing green shoots into the homeland. Is there any light more beautiful than that lit by the love of those who return?

I left my canvas shoes at the corner of the bridge and walked barefoot on the wooden path along the riverbank. The sun was scorching all day, but when my feet touched the rough wooden planks, I could still feel the coolness of the water. After a long day in front of the computer screen, a leisurely moment on the banks of the Perfume River was when I returned to myself, listening to the breath of nature, of the trees, of the river. Before the splendor of the sky and earth, no matter how chaotic the human heart was, it gradually calmed down. More gentle. More peaceful.

I am fascinated by the unique brilliance of Hue night. It is the dim light that covers the ancient treetops in the Imperial City, during a summer music night. The lights blend into the mist, permeate each mossy wall, making the Imperial City deeper and more mysterious in the quiet night.

The music rises, gentle as a small stream. Sweet voices flow into the space, gently stirring the listener's soul. Hue night is whispering stories with melody, with truly magical light.

Standing next to me that day were guests from Hanoi . They happened to pass by Hien Nhon gate, then lost in the crowd. I loved the surprised look of my Hanoi brother as he enjoyed that space, both surprised and happy. A wonderful performance, and open to the public. He kept exclaiming. In Hue, beautiful things often come so gently.

In the dim light of the night, the Imperial City was as quiet as if awakening amidst the trees and leaves, amidst the gentle footsteps coming and going. I walked around the old paths, looking up at the dark canopy of trees against the sky. The night was so quiet, but each mossy wall, each ancient tree canopy seemed to be whispering old stories, evoking in people's hearts many things that had not yet been written.

Hue night gently let itself fall into silence. And there is a sparkling light flowing in the heart, enough to keep us there. For a long time.

Le Ha

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/van-hoa-nghe-thuat/lap-lanh-dem-156698.html