Based on a poem of the same title, a young man reads a poem, reminiscing his afternoons by the Hoàn Kiem Lake in Hanoi, recollecting her Mother's story of a huge star above their house which he never saw and his vision of a blue bird that shed dry tears.
As Orson Welles, I might say: Art is the grand illusion, a mirror reflecting the complexities of the human soul. It's a symphony of ideas, emotions, and truths, played on the canvas of our shared humanity.
