Spring of forty-six my grandfather pressed a seedInto the red dirt behind the bamboo gate, a longan treeHe said one day a boy will eat the fruit and never know my faceBut the shade will be my letter, and the root will keep my placeEighty years and that tree still drops its gold each fallAnd I am the boy he wrote to, who finally heard the callRootsUống nước nhớ nguồnDrink the water, don't forget the spring it came fromRootsThe taller that I grow, the deeper they holdThe newest leaf is keeping all the oldest stories toldCon người có tổ có tôngLike a tree has a root, like a river has a sourceThe city tried to tell me that the past was a coat to shedThat a man becomes himself by leaving all the deadBut I drove back at thirty-five and stood beneath the limbsAnd every branch was an arm, and every leaf a hymnI touched the bark my grandfather touched the year he disappearedAnd the tree had grown around a nail he drove there, still right hereCut a tree without a root, watch how fast it fallThe ones who know where they are from, they stand the tallest of them allI know my name, I know my line, I know the hands that gaveSo I bloom for all the winters that my people had to braveRootsUống nước nhớ nguồnDrink the water, don't forget the spring it came fromRoots
