Joan Baez once said Trịnh Công Sơn was Vietnam’s Bob Dylan. Well, just in a sense of ‘anti-war’ and popularity. The poetics of Sơn is very different with Dylan’s. John Schafer thought so, too.
Em đi qua chuyến đò thấy con trăng đang nằm ngủ Con sông là quán trọ và trăng tên lãng du Em đi qua chuyến đò ối a con trăng còn trẻ Con sông đâu có ngờ ngày kia trăng sẽ già
Em đi qua chuyến đò ối a trăng nay đã già Trăng muôn đời thiếu nợ mà sông không nhớ ra Em đi qua chuyến đò lắng nghe con sông nằm kể Trăng ơi trăng rất tệ mày đi nhớ chóng về
Em đi qua chuyến đò ối a vui như ngày hội Tôi xin làm quán đợi buồn chân em ghé chơi Em đi qua chốn này ối a sao em đành vội Tôi xin làm đá cuội và lăn theo gót hài
Tôi vui chơi giữa đời ối a biết đâu nguồn cội Cây trưa thu bóng dài và tôi thu bóng tôi Tôi vui chơi giữa đời ối a biết đâu nguồn cội Tôi thu tôi bé lại làm mưa tan giữa trời.
translation
You passed the ferry-boat;
The moon lay there sleeping
The river was the tavern, the moon wanderer
You passed the ferry-boat
Ôi a , the moon was young
The river didn’t know the moon will grow old one day
You pass the river, ôi a, the moon now is old
It owes too much, but the river can't figure out
You pass the river
listening to the heart talk of the river
Oh, awful dear moon, why don’t you come back soon
The moon lay there sleeping
The river was the tavern, the moon wanderer
You passed the ferry-boat
Ôi a , the moon was young
The river didn’t know the moon will grow old one day
You pass the river, ôi a, the moon now is old
It owes too much, but the river can't figure out
You pass the river
listening to the heart talk of the river
Oh, awful dear moon, why don’t you come back soon
You passed the ferry-boat, ôi a, the festival spun the heart
I would turn myself into a joyful resting spot for you
Passing this place, why were you in hurried pace ?
I wanted to become rolling pebbles to follow you
I would turn myself into a joyful resting spot for you
Passing this place, why were you in hurried pace ?
I wanted to become rolling pebbles to follow you
Light-heartedly ‘am wandering, do not know
where my root is
The trees shorten their shadows at noon
and I mine
I coast along life with fun and stuff,
do not know my root
I curl tinily to become raindew and
fly-breaking in the sky
where my root is
The trees shorten their shadows at noon
and I mine
I coast along life with fun and stuff,
do not know my root
I curl tinily to become raindew and
fly-breaking in the sky
(TN)
* The root and the self are reflecting each other by moon river
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