Ho Chi Minh was our real President
The one we counted on
For right decisions

His face enthralled us:
Confidential, Oriental, clear
As a passage of music

He was always himself

He held in his thoughts
The immensity of these times
Cradled in his sense of what was fit

He smoked Salems, you know
Think for what else he might have liked us
Had he not been obliged to wage war
To give us ourselves and our future