Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
If for any reason this tree has grown high,
Higher than any building, higher than the eye;
It was war, it was once a flag pole;
It was war that makes a proud soul.
If for any reason this tree is now bare and shrunk,
Their tops pruned, red flags once nailed on its trunk;
It is peacetime, two scores after the battle cry;
It is peacetime, and people just pass by.
x x x