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by:
heocon
member
ID 13733
Date: 09/20/2006
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The Tale of Kieu -- Truyen Kieu
The Tale of Kieu, by Nguyen Du
(Huynh, trans. The Tale of Kieu.)
A hundred years—in this life span on earth
talent and destiny are apt to feud.
You must go through a play of ebb and flow*
and watch such things as make you sick at heart.
Is it so strange that losses balance gains?* 5
Blue Heaven's wont to strike arose from spite.*
By lamplight turn these scented leaves and read
a tale of love recorded in old books.
Under the Chia-ching reign when Ming held sway,*
all lived at peace—both capitals stood strong.* 10
There was a burgher in the clan of Vuong,*
a man of modest wealth and middle rank.
He had a last‑born son, Vuong Quan—his hope*
to carry on a line of learned folk.
Two daughters, beauties both, had come before: 15
Thuy Kieu was oldest, younger was Thuy Van.*
Bodies like slim plum branches, snow‑pure souls:
each her own self, each perfect in her way.
In quiet grace Van was beyond compare:
her face a moon, her eyebrows two full curves; 20
her smile a flower, her voice the song of jade;
her hair the sheen of clouds, her skin white snow.
Yet Kieu possessed a keener, deeper charm,
surpassing Van in talents and in looks.
Her eyes were autumn streams, her brows spring hills. 25
Flowers grudged her glamour, willows her fresh hue.
A glance or two from her, and kingdoms rocked!
Supreme in looks, she had few peers in gifts.
By Heaven blessed with wit, she knew all skills:
she could write verse and paint, could sing and chant. 30
Of music she had mastered all five tones*
and played the lute far better than Ai Chang.*
She had composed a song called Cruel Fate*
to mourn all women in soul‑rending strains.
A paragon of grace for womanhood,* 35
she neared that time when maidens pinned their hair.*
She calmly lived behind drawn shades and drapes,
as wooers swarmed, unheeded, by the wall.*
góp
ý kiến
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88086
Date: 09/21/2006
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Swift swallows and spring days were shuttling by—
of ninety radiant ones three score had fled. 40
Young grass spread all its green to heaven's rim;
some blossoms marked pear branches with white dots.
Now came the Feast of Light in the third month*
with graveyard rites and junkets on the green.
As merry pilgrims flocked from near and far,* 45
the sisters and their brother went for a stroll.
Fine men and beauteous women on parade:
a crush of clothes, a rush of wheels and steeds.*
Folks clambered burial knolls to strew and burn
sham gold or paper coins, and ashes swirled. 50
Now, as the sun was dipping toward the west,
the youngsters started homeward, hand in hand.
With leisured steps they walked along a brook,
admiring here and there a pretty view.
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88090
Date: 09/22/2006
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The rivulet, babbling, curled and wound its course 55
under a bridge that spanned it farther down.
Beside the road a mound of earth loomed up
where withered weeds, half yellow and half green.
Kieu asked: "Now that the Feast of Light is on,
why is no incense burning for this grave?" 60
Vuong Quan told her this tale from first to last:
"She was a famous singer once, Dam Tien.*
Renowned for looks and talents in her day,
she lacked not lovers jostling at her door.*
But fate makes roses fragile—in mid‑spring* 65
off broke the flower that breathed forth heaven's scents.
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88092
Date: 09/24/2006
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From overseas a stranger came to woo
and win a girl whose name spread far and wide.
But when the lover's boat sailed into port,
he found the pin had snapped, the vase had crashed.* 70
A death‑still silence filled the void, her room;*
all tracks of horse or wheels had blurred to moss.
He wept, full of a grief no words could tell:
`Harsh is the fate that has kept us apart!
Since in this life we are not meant to meet, 75
let me pledge you my troth for our next life.’
He purchased both a coffin and a hearse*
and rested her in dust beneath this mound,
among the grass and flowers. For many moons,*
who's come to tend a grave that no one claims?" 80
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88093
Date: 09/25/2006
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A well of pity lay within Kieu's heart:
as soon as she had heard her tears burst forth.*
"How sorrowful is women's lot!" she cried.
"We all partake of woe, our common fate.
Creator, why are you so mean and cruel, 85
blighting green days and fading rose-fresh cheeks?*
Alive, she played the wife to all the world,
alas, to end down there without a man!
Where are they now who shared in her embrace?*
Where are they now who lusted for her charms?* 90
Since no one else gives her a glance, a thought,
I'll light some incense candles while I'm here.
I'll mark our chance encounter on the road—
perhaps, down by the Yellow Springs, she'll know."
She prayed in mumbled tones, then she knelt down 95
to make a few low bows before the tomb.
Dusk gathered on a patch of wilted weeds—
reed tassels swayed as gently blew the breeze.
She pulled a pin out of her hair and graved
four lines of stop‑short verse on a tree's bark.* 100
Deeper and deeper sank her soul in trance—
all hushed, she tarried there and would not leave.
The cloud on her fair face grew darker yet:
as sorrow ebbed or flowed, tears dropped or streamed.
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88095
Date: 09/26/2006
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Van said: "My sister, you should be laughed at, 105
lavishing tears on one long dead and gone!"
"Since ages out of mind," retorted Kieu,
"harsh fate has cursed all women, sparing none.*
As I see her lie there, it hurts to think
what will become of me in later days." 110
"A fine speech you just made!" protested Quan.
"It jars the ears to hear you speak of her
and mean yourself. Dank air hangs heavy here—
day's failing, and there's still a long way home."
Kieu said: "When one who shines in talent dies, 115
the body passes on, the soul remains.
In her, perhaps, I've found a kindred heart:
let's wait and soon enough she may appear."
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88096
Date: 09/26/2006
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Before they could respond to what Kieu said,
a whirlwind rose from nowhere, raged and raved. 120
It blustered, strewing buds and shaking trees
and scattering whiffs of perfume in the air.
They strode along the path the whirlwind took
and plainly saw fresh footprints on the moss.
They stared at one another, terror-struck. 125
"You've heard the prayer of my pure faith!" Kieu cried.
"As kindred hearts, we've joined each other here—
transcending life and death, soul sisters meet."
Dam Tien had cared to manifest herself:
to what she'd written Kieu now added thanks. 130
A poet's feelings, rife with anguish, flowed:
she carved an old-style poem on the tree.*
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88110
Date: 09/29/2006
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To leave or stay—they all were wavering still*
when nearby rang the sound of harness bells.
They saw a youthful scholar come their way 135
astride a colt he rode with slackened rein.
He carried poems packing half his bag,*
and tagging at his heels were some page boys.
His frisky horse's coat was dyed with snow.
His gown blent tints of grass and pale blue sky. 140
He spied them from afar, at once alit
and walked toward them to pay them his respects.
His figured slippers trod the green—the field
now sparkled like some jade-and-ruby grove.
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88290
Date: 10/15/2006
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Young Vuong stepped forth and greeted him he knew 145
while two shy maidens hid behind the flowers.
He came from somewhere not so far away,
Kim Trong, a scion of the noblest stock.*
Born into wealth and talent, he'd received
his wit from heaven, a scholar's trade from men. 150
Manner and mien set him above the crowd:
he studied books indoors, lived high abroad.
Since birth he'd always called this region home—
he and young Vuong were classmates at their school.
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 88474
Date: 10/25/2006
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His neighbors' fame had spread and reached his ear: 155
two beauties locked in their Bronze Sparrow Tower!*
But, as if hills and streams had barred the way,
he had long sighed and dreamt of them, in vain.
How lucky, in this season of new leaves,*
to roam about and find his yearned-for flowers! 160
He caught a fleeting glimpse of both afar:
spring orchid, autumn mum—a gorgeous pair!
Beautiful girl and talented young man—
what stirred their hearts their eyes still dared not say.
They hovered, rapture-bound, `tween wake and dream: 165
they could not stay, nor would they soon depart.
The dusk of sunset prompted thoughts of gloom—
he left, and longingly she watched him go.
Below a stream flowed clear, and by the bridge
a twilit willow rustled threads of silk. 170
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Reply:
heocon
member
REF: 89221
Date: 12/14/2006
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When Kieu got back behind her flowered drapes,
the sun had set, the curfew gong had rung.
Outside the window, squinting, peeped the moon—
gold spilled on waves, trees shadowed all the yard.
East drooped a red camellia, toward the next house:* 175
as dewdrops fell, the spring branch bent and bowed.
Alone, in silence, she beheld the moon,*
her heart a raveled coil of hopes and fears:
"Lower than that no person could be brought!
It's just a bauble then, the glittering life. 180
And who is he? Why did we chance to meet?
Does fate intend some tie between us two?"
Her bosom heaved in turmoil—she poured forth
a wondrous lyric fraught with all she felt.
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