Sunday. Pure. Refreshing.
Enjoyed a cup of hot milk.
Listened to this song. Smiled.
Hello Vietnam
[Posted to Listen! category]

Tell me all about this name, that is difficult to say.
It was given me the day I was born.
Want to know about the stories of the empire of old.
My eyes say more of me than what you dare to say.
All I know of you is all the sights of war.
A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar.
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
Tell me all about my color, my hair and my little feet.
That have carried me every mile of the way.
Want to see your house, your streets.
Show me all I do not know.
Wooden sampans, floating markets, light of gold.
All I know of you is the sights of war.
A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar.
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
And Buddha’s made of stone watch over me
My dreams they lead me through the fields of rice
In prayer, in the light…
I see my kin I touch my tree, my roots, my begin
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
One day I’ll walk your soil.
One day I’ll finally know my soul.
One day I’ll come to you.
To say hello…Vietnam.
To say hello…Vietnam.
To say xin chào… Việt Nam.
This song was first recorded in French.[Posted to Listen! category]

Tell me all about this name, that is difficult to say.
It was given me the day I was born.
Want to know about the stories of the empire of old.
My eyes say more of me than what you dare to say.
All I know of you is all the sights of war.
A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar.
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
Tell me all about my color, my hair and my little feet.
That have carried me every mile of the way.
Want to see your house, your streets.
Show me all I do not know.
Wooden sampans, floating markets, light of gold.
All I know of you is the sights of war.
A film by Coppola, the helicopter's roar.
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
And Buddha’s made of stone watch over me
My dreams they lead me through the fields of rice
In prayer, in the light…
I see my kin I touch my tree, my roots, my begin
One day I'll touch your soil.
One day I'll finally know your soul.
One day I'll come to you.
To say hello... Vietnam.
One day I’ll walk your soil.
One day I’ll finally know my soul.
One day I’ll come to you.
To say hello…Vietnam.
To say hello…Vietnam.
To say xin chào… Việt Nam.
Even though I don't really understand but I feel like it's more touching.
Anyway the meaning of the song is said to be translated quite accurately into English version.
Bonjour Vietnam
Raconte moi ce nom étrange et difficile à prononcer,
Que je porte depuis que je suis née.
Raconte moi le vieil empire et le trait de mes yeux bridés,
Qui disent mieux que moi ce que tu n’oses dire.
Je ne sais de toi que des images de la guerre,
Un film de Coppola, [et] des hélicoptères en colère...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à ton âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
Raconte moi ma couleur, mes cheveux et mes petits pieds,
Qui me portent depuis que je suis née.
Raconte moi ta maison, ta rue, racontes moi cet inconnu,
Les marchés flottants et les sampans de bois.
Je ne connais de mon pays que des photos de la guerre,
Un film de Coppola, [et] des hélicoptères en colère...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à mon âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
Les temples et les Bouddhas de pierre pour mes pères,
Les femmes courbées dans les rizières pour mes mères,
Dans la prière, dans la lumière, revoir mes frères,
Toucher mon âme, mes racines, ma terre...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à mon âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
Raconte moi ce nom étrange et difficile à prononcer,
Que je porte depuis que je suis née.
Raconte moi le vieil empire et le trait de mes yeux bridés,
Qui disent mieux que moi ce que tu n’oses dire.
Je ne sais de toi que des images de la guerre,
Un film de Coppola, [et] des hélicoptères en colère...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à ton âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
Raconte moi ma couleur, mes cheveux et mes petits pieds,
Qui me portent depuis que je suis née.
Raconte moi ta maison, ta rue, racontes moi cet inconnu,
Les marchés flottants et les sampans de bois.
Je ne connais de mon pays que des photos de la guerre,
Un film de Coppola, [et] des hélicoptères en colère...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à mon âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
Les temples et les Bouddhas de pierre pour mes pères,
Les femmes courbées dans les rizières pour mes mères,
Dans la prière, dans la lumière, revoir mes frères,
Toucher mon âme, mes racines, ma terre...
Un jour, j’irai là bas, un jour dire bonjour à mon âme.
Un jour, j’irai là bas [pour] te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
te dire bonjour, Vietnam.
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