Night after night, the artillery shells descend into town.
A street sweeper halts his broom to silently listen.
As the shells drop, a mother wakes from her slumber.
As the shells drop, a child lets out an innocent cry.
Bright flames pierce the dark night over the mountains.

You can read the rest of the poem and listen to the original Vietnamese song on the Eversky website http://www.eversky.org/?tag=trinh-cong-son