"Văn chương hạ giới" (Literature Down Below) - Lương Diệu Thanh (1974)

Trước đây anh Trịnh Công Sơn, đã làm giàu cho các nhà xuất bản nhạc, các hãng băng cũng từng lang thang không một đồng xu dính túi. May lắm nếu có phòng trà nào nhận ra anh thì đãi anh một chai nước ngọt, không tính tiền theo giá biểu của... phòng trà. 

Cái luật rừng, cá lớn nuốt cá bé, cây lớn che bóng mặt trời của cây con tưởng chỉ xảy ra trong đời sống động vật, thực vật ai dà lại hoành hành trong đời sống loài người, lại là những người làm văn nghệ.

Bao giờ mới có một đạo luật bảo vệ tác quyền, bao giờ mới có một hội đích thực bênh vực công trình sáng tác của giới cầm bút?

Và bao giờ những người như... Sơn mới hết lang thang trên những đường phố đèn xanh đèn đỏ, thèm một tách cà phê, một ngụm khói Capstan nồng ấm như đôi môi người tình?

In the past Trịnh Công Sơn enriched the music publishers and cassette companies, he now wanders without a penny to his name. He'd be very lucky if some teahouse recognizes him and treats him to a bottle of soda without calculating the complimentary price of the... tearoom.

The law of the jungle, big fish swallow little fish, big trees shade the sunlight from the little ones, you would think only happened among plants and animals without taking licenses in the life of mankind, especially through who make art.

When will there be a law to protect intellectual property, when will there be an authentic organization to protect author's creative projects?

And when will people like... Sơn be able to end their wandering on the streets with red lights and green lights, desiring a cup of coffee, inhale a puff of Capstan, warm like a lover's lips?

Lương Diệu Thanh, "Văn chương hạ giới," Tiền tuyến 6 tháng 8 1974.

One of the main conclusions of my book chapter "Songs of Sympathy in Time of War: Commercial Music in the Republic of Vietnam" (in the volume Republican Vietnam, 1963-1975: War, Society, Diaspora)

was that this was a lucrative time to be a musician. Songwriters sometimes were able to buy a car from the royalties of a song. Musicians often both worked on a salary for the government (usually the security services) and also had sidelights performing at nightclubs, cafes, and military bases. Singers earned a great deal of money performing on the radio, television and at đại nhạc hội (music festivals).

The payment of royalties was usually not fair -- often the songwriter only received a flat payment when a song was recorded. When tape recording came along, piracy became rampant, further depriving songwriters income due to them. However, by and large the years of the Republic of Vietnam was a great time to be music creator and a music performer.

The image from 1974 of Trịnh Công Sơn wandering the streets of Saigon needing to bum a cigarette or a glass of soda seems far-fetched, but, not baseless.

nguồn ảnh: Tiền tuyến 27 tháng 2 1974

Trịnh Công Sơn never worked for any branch of the Republic of Vietnam's security services (although I suspect he could have if he wanted -- he had many highly placed friends). He did not sing in professional venues. He did not play guitar at a professional level. His income would come from songwriting royalties. Many of his songs were recorded to disc and tape, but as I noted above, these were usually compensated for by one-time payments. There was no system of paying ongoing royalties.

Most of his songs were published. I think in many cases he sold the songs outright when they were published as sheet music. A very large number of his songs were published in collections by Nhân Bản. As far as I can tell, Nhân Bản published nothing but Trịnh Công Sơn song anthologies between 1967 and 1972. Some of these were released outside of the formal censorship system and perhaps could be considered black market. I have to believe that these songbooks were widely available and sold in fairly large numbers. Who was behind Nhân Bản? And did Nhân Bản pay Trịnh Công Sơn regular royalties?

Overall, the years of the Republic of Vietnam was a great time to be a musician. However, starting in 1973 opportunities for musicians began to dry up. This was owing to the withdrawal of American forces and the economic stimulus they brought to the economy. When you add to that the popularity of new audio cassette technology and the rampant piracy that it promoted, it became harder for creative musicians to profit from their work.

The overall premise of the article quoted above is correct. The society of that time did not have laws or enforcement that allowed creators to receive the payment they should have been due for their creative work. However, was Trịnh Công Sơn's situation as desperate as the author claimed? That's not impossible.

Underlying this, I believe was an aesthetic and worldview the Trịnh Công Sơn must have held. He seems to have held a refined notion of the value of creativity. That its value lays outside of matters of money and payment. Nghệ thuật vị nghệ thuật. That was a notion that would not work in the Democratic Republic of Vietnam in the north. Music had to serve the nation and if you couldn't or wouldn't direct your creative abilities in that direction you went silent. (Đoàn Chuẩn is a good example of that). 

In the Republic of Vietnam you could create music that did not serve the nation. But it should serve the marketplace or you could go hungry. Not only did you have to serve the marketplace, you had to actively attend to your business interests. That did not appeal to Trịnh Công Sơn. As this 1974 article points out, a lot of other people over the years found it in their business interest to promote and sell Trịnh Công Sơn's music.

Ngõ hẻm gặp nhau (In The Alley We Met) - Phương Anh [Thanh Phương] [+Cô Phượng / Vinh Sử] (1969)

ngâm: 

Người đi một nửa hồn tôi chết
Một nửa hồn kia bổng dại khờ
H.M.T.

recited: 

Someone left, half my soul died

My soul's other half suddenly foolish
[Hàn Mặc Tử]

BALLADE

Trên ngõ hẹp lối vào hẻm sâu,

On the narrow alley, the way into a deep cul-de-sac  
Nhà anh đầu xóm nhà em cuối đường,

My house is at the front of the neighborhood, yours at the end of the lane,  
Ngày ra vào hai đứa gặp nhau trước lạ sau rồi cũng quen quen trong ánh mắt nhưng không dám chào.

Daily coming and going we met, at first, strangers then more familiar through glinting eyes, yet dare not make any greeting.

Trên lối nhỏ anh thường gặp em,

Along this tiny path I often met you,  
Tình yêu thầm đến dần theo tháng ngày,

An inner love gradually came along with the days and months.  
Và hôm nào em vắng vào ra suốt ngày đứng ngồi không yên trắng đêm thức trọn anh nghe nhớ thương,

And one day you were absent, coming, going all day, standing, seated, uneasy, awake all night nagged by longing.  

Nhiều khi gặp nhau trong ngõ vắng người anh muốn chào để làm quen nhưng ngại em ngoảnh mặt làm ngơ,

Many times when we met in the empty alley, I wanted to greet and get to know you, but I worried that you would turn away and pretend not to notice,  
Thư xanh viết lời thương yêu chân thành mấy lần anh muốn trao em nhưng sợ không nhận bạn bè cười chê.

A blue letter of sincere love, many times I wanted to offer it to you but I was afraid that you wouldn't accept it and laugh in scorn  

Trong ngõ hẹp bây giờ quạnh hiu

In the narrow alley now desolate  
Chiều qua cả xóm tiễn em lấy chồng,

Yesterday afternoon, the whole neighborhood saw you off when you took a husband,  
Nhìn theo đoàn xe đón nàng dâu ai cũng khen nàng tốt số đâu hay có người đang nghe xót xa

My gaze followed the procession greeting the bride, everyone congratulated her good fortune, they'd never know that somebody was in pain  

nguồn: Phương Anh, "Ngõ hẻm gặp nhau" (Saigon: Yêu, 1971).

"Ngõ hẻm gặp nhau" was recorded on the Nhã Ca 1 tape along with "Không giờ rồi," "Khi không," and "Gái nhà nghèo." Phương Anh - pen name for Thanh Phương - is the credited songwriter on the tape release and on the sheet music published that time. In more recent years this song has been co-attributed to Vinh Sử (actually his alter ego, Cô Phượng).

The songs and melodic style of "Ngõ hẻm gặp nhau" is consistent with Vinh Sử's other songs from that time. A pair regularly pass by each other in the neighborhood and a spark is lit. Unfortunately, shyness prevents him from speaking with or writing to her. While he hesitates, she suddenly omits her walk through the familiar alleyway because she is getting married. The celebration takes place making our narrator sad and regretful.

Vinh Sử drew upon a couplet by Hàn Mặc Tử to provide a recited introduction to his song "Phản bội." Likewise this song draws another introduction from the poet - a couplet from the poem "Nhưng giọt lệ" [Tears].

After 1975 Vinh Sử changed the songs title to "Trên lối nhỏ" and substituted those words for the opening image of "Trong ngõ hẹp." The replacement of a "ngõ hẹp" with a "lối nhỏ" suggests movement from an urban alley to a rural path.

Thanh Tuyền ca bài "Ngõ hẻm gặp nhau" trên băng Nhã Ca 5, năm

Lời cô giáo trẻ (Words of A Young Teacher) - Cô Phượng [Vinh Sử] (1973)

HABANERA

Em là cô giáo tóc thề bờ vai

I'm a teacher, tresses rest on my shoulders   
Xuân tròn đôi tám mơ mộng tương lai

In the spring of life, eighteen, dreaming of the future  
Trời cho mang nét trang đài

Heaven has allowed me wear the countenance of a lady's chambers  
Ngõ tim chưa bước chân ai

Nobody has yet set foot upon the pathway to my heart  
Vui bên đàn học trò thơ ngây

Happy by my flock of innocent students

Em là cô giáo nơi tỉnh lẻ xa

I'm a teacher in a remote province  
Quen giọng thanh thót trong vần ê a

Who has gotten used to the warbled syllables "ay" and "ah"  
Dạy khuyên em bé thật thà

Guiding the sincere little ones  
Lễ nghi yêu kính Mẹ Cha thương Ông Bà hơn cả đời ta.

In ceremonies I love and respect my folks and cherish my grandparents more than my life. 

Nhiều khi trường tan chuông đổ xôn xao

Often at the end of the school day when the bell loudly rings  
Ngoài sân tan tác hoa phượng, em nghe lòng mang nổi bâng khuâng

Out on the yard scattered poinciana flowers, I feel a sad longing  
Chợt thương ngày nào lên sáu lên năm

Suddenly fond of those growing to be five and six  
Hồn nhiên trong tuổi học trò

Unaffected at this age of schooling  

Nay kỷ niệm để dành nằm mơ!

Those are memories for when I lie dreaming!

Em là cô giáo tuy nghèo mà vui

I'm a teacher, though poor, it's fun
Không đòi đua chỉ an phận mà thôi

I don't imitate, just content with my fate  
Làm thân giáo chức đâu ngại

Dedicating myself as an educator with no hesitancy 
Dìu đưa em bé tương lai

Guiding the little one's futures  
Đi xây dựng danh vọng ngày mai.

Building a name for themselves tomorrow.  

nguồn: Cô Phượng, "Lời cô giáo trẻ" (Khánh Hội-Saigon: Ấn phẩm Họa Mi, 1973).

This song borders on socialist realism portraying an idealized model of social behavior. She's sixteen years old, obedient to her family, prepared to live a life of poverty, yet wholly dedicated the development of children in a remote province where her work will perhaps go unnoticed. Through her guidance, Vietnam will benefit from a future cohort of young people ready to make Vietnam a better place.

This depiction is betrayed at the outset by her awareness of her beauty and potential. Her "sad longing" arises from the knowledge at this moment that she might find romantic fulfillment, yet nobody "has set foot on the pathway to [her] heart." The scattered remains of poinciana flowers that she describes have to bring to mind the red remnants of celebratory firecrackers after a wedding.

nguồn ảnh: Phạm Hoàng, "Hoa phượng 'nhuộm' đỏ sân trường ở phố núi Gia Lai," Dân Trí May 22, 2023

It's an attractive image: an independent teen girl, long hair wearing a white, virginal áo dài. The kids see her as an attentive helpful teacher. She sees herself pulled in more than one direction -- fully committed to her family and profession, yet simultaneously conscious of her beauty and of feelings that she has not fully articulated to herself. 

This innocence makes her more attractive. Most Vinh Sử songs happen a little later on, when something would crushed this the feelings of this self-possessed young woman - her parents or her poverty would block her from the marital bliss that she is not convinced that she desires. Perhaps the joy and fulfillment that comes from leading a class of tiny children sounding out their vowels is enough to dispel all of her vague, disquieting longing? The plaintive music undercuts the confidence in her ability to be satisfactied by this alone.

Thanh Tuyền introduced "Lời cô giáo trẻ" on the Kim Đằng 1 cassette in August 1973.

Khổ tâm (Painful) - Cô Phượng [Vinh Sử] (1967)

Ngâm
Cây hoằng vì bởi trái sai
Em xa Anh vì bởi anh tay trắng nghèo

Recited

The Fibraurea recisa is overrun with fruit

I'm far from you because of your poor empty hands

Khổ tâm vô vàn khi mình lìa nhau.

It's been endless pain since we separated
Cũng do Cha Mẹ em vốn sang giàu

Because my folks are rich and important  
Sân nhà phơi hồng xác pháo, em ngỡ xác chết tim đau, thôi vẫy tay chào giây cuối qua cầu.

Our yard is laid out with red firework remains, I'd believe they're the corpse of a pained heart, fine, I'll wave during the final seconds crossing the bridge

Khổ tâm khôn lường cho phận làm con.
It's immeasurable pain for a child's fate

Nghĩa Me công thầy thân gái vuông tròn.

Her parents's duty, a girl's life perfectly arranged.
Vâng lời theo chồng xa xứ, sang giàu nhưng chẳng sắc son em vui vui gượng, em cười cười suông.
Agreeing to follow a husband to a faraway place, rich but inconstant I'll strain to be happy, I'll give a false smile.

Hỡi Thầy Mẹ, Ép mỡ ép dầu, sao đành ép duyên con, cho cau xanh phải xa trầu.
Oh mom and dad, you can force out oil, how you force out my true love, force the green areca far from the betel. 
Hỡi Thầy Mẹ, hôm bước qua cầu, nhìn cầu bao nhiêu nhịp, nghe lòng mình sầu bấy nhiêu

Oh mom and day, the day I cross the bridge, I'll note how many posts the bridge has and feel sad that much in my heart  

Khổ tâm cam đành mang lòng bạc đen.

Painful, I'm resigned to a heart of betrayal and ill fortune
Chắc anh thông cảm em nổi ưu phiền.

Surely you'll understand me and my distress.
Vui gì ư? 

Happy about what?

Đời nhung gấm, bên người không nghĩa con tim, đêm môi lạ mơ người tình quen.

My life of embroidered velvet, beside somebody with no attachment to my heart, at night with unfamiliar lips, I'll dream of the lover I know.

nguồn: Cô Phượng, "Khổ tâm" ([Saigon]: [Tác giả], 1973).

I am uncertain about the meaning of the recited opening couplet. "Cây hoằng" seems to be the "cây đằng hoằng" or Fibraurea recisa pictured below.

image source: https://www.picturethisai.com/wiki/Fibraurea_recisa.html

I cannot find any folklore that is associated with this plant - a wild vine whose roots have powerful medicinal properties. The fruit appear to serve no function useful to mankind but has a distinctive yellow color. The meaning suggested to me by this couplet is that the fecundity of this vine's fruit matches the extent of the poverty of the narrator's beloved? 

Her parents are well off and the man she loves is too poor and unworthy in their eyes. She goes through with the wedding her parents have arranged because she has no other apparent choice. But every step of the way she holds on tightly to the affection she has for her beloved. Her parents would symbolically separate cau (areca palm) and trầu (betel net), the two essential ingredients of a happy engagement. She measures the distance crossing the bridge -- crossing a river being the symbolic threshold leaving the world of her family to join a new family. 

As is often the case in Vinh Sử's songs, there are folk verses to reference.

Qua cầu ghé nón trông cầu,

Cầu bao nhiêu nhịp dạ sầu bấy nhiêu

Crossing the bridge I lower my hat to give it a look

For each section of the bridge I feel greater melancholy

The lyrics use the words "sắc son" which must be the words "sắt son" or "son sắt" pronounced in the Southern dialect. "Sắt" means iron or steel - something strong and enduring. A folk couplet uses this image to express a willingness to endure hardship in loving relationship.

Cho dầu phận có long đong,

Nhưng tình son sắc thì lòng vẫn vui

Even if fate brings misfortune

But with resolute love, my heart will remain happy

Aware that her heart lacks conviction in what is supposed to a happy day and a happy union, so she can only pretend and smile to allow her unwanted future to begin.

The pairing of "bạc đen" must be a compression of an image from The Story of Kiều.

Thưa nhà huyên hết mọi tình,

Nỗi chàng ở bạc, nỗi mình chịu đen

Respectfully telling the mother her feelings

Of his betrayal and her misfortune

The betrayal must be her forced betrayal of her beloved, and, of course, the misfortune is her own. But ultimately she will not betray him. Even in the embrace of her new husband she be dreaming of her lovers lips.

The villain in this tale and in many similar tales are the parents who covet wealth and possessions. She cannot properly protest any decision her parents have made. Her new husband might similarly be a victim. Maybe he was forced to separate from his lover to enter into a union with a woman determined to show him no affection?

Giao Linh introduced "Khổ tâm" on the Kim Đằng 1 tape release in August 1973. Evidently Thanh Tuyền recited the poem at the song's opening.

Phản bội [Vong bội] (Betrayal) [Ungrateful] - Vinh Sử (1973)

đầu đề:

Làm sao giết được người trong mộng

How can I murder someone in my dreams

Để trả thù duyên kiếp phụ phàng.

To avenge a jealous karmic fate.

H.M.T.

Ballade

Trời ơi, Anh đã xa tôi mất rồi!

Good heavens, You've gone away!
Tại anh gian dối nên làm khổ tôi.

Because your lies have made me miserable.
Buổi đầu gặp gỡ chưa nguôi, kỷ niệm mang mãi trên môi, xin ngoéo tay nhau thề chung đôi...

Our first meeting still fresh, memories still born by my lips, we crossed fingers and vowed to be together as a couple.

Nhiều khi tôi cố quên đi nỗi niềm

Many times I've tried to forget these feelings  
Càng quên thêm nhớ vô vàn chẳng yên.

The more I forget, the more I endlessly remember with no relief
Nghĩ mình bạc bẽo vô duyên, để người ta đổi thay đen, cam chấp nhận số phận buồn tênh

I think I'm ungrateful, failed in love, so that somebody changed to black, I've silently accept such a sad fate

Chim xa rừng còn thương cây nhớ cội, người đi xa người tội lắm người ơi!

Birds distant from the forest still love trees, remember their roots, people distant from each other is sin I tell you
Anh quên rồi đàn lia thia quen chậu, bọn mình quen hơi Anh bạc tựa vôi.

You've forgotten that fighting fish get used to their bowl, as we two would get used to our air, You're unfaithful (pale like lime)

 
làm sao tôi giết Anh trong giấc mộng.

How can I murder You in my dreams?
Để cho nhung nhớ không còn nhớ nhung

So my longing is no longing longer  
Trả thù duyên kiếp long đong, trả thù ai đã bội vong, gương đã vỡ sao lành mà mong.

To avenge misfortune in love, avenge someone ungrateful, the mirror once broken, how can it be fixed with only hopes

source: Vinh Sử, "Phản bội" (Khánh Hội, Saigon: Ấn phẩm Họa Mi, [1975].  

For my taste, there is no better interpreter of Vietnamese song than Trang Mỹ Dung. She sings with a full, dark timbre and phrases exquisitely. This song's melody opens in a way that is very foreign to Western ears. It is sung outside of the Western equal tempered scale and instead the pitches are bent toward the equidistant seven note scale that influences the oán mode (my observation owes a great deal to the fine musicologist and composer, Lê Tuấn Hùng). In an equi-distant seven note scale, the third and sixth scale degrees that open the verse (Trời ơi anh đã xa mất tôi...) are neutral, neither major or minor, but in between the major and minor western scale degrees. This inflection that clashes with the diatonic setting of the harmony adds intensity to the emotional impact of the song. Other than the opening of the song's verses, these two degrees are little used in the song.

The opening epigraph is a very famous couple written by "H.M.T." - the colonial era poet Hàn Mặc Tử. Likely known to all Vietnamese listeners, these words that conclude his poem "Lang thang" (Wandering) provide the framework of the songs message. Phạm Duy created a famous song - "Giết người trong mộng" (Killing Someone in My Dreams) - based on the same poem. The poet is driven to dissolution, hardship and hunger by the lingering memory of an ideal love.

"Phản bội" also incorporates the image that opens the Southern folksong "Lý chim quyên." Here are the lyrics and their translation from Phạm Duy's book, Musics of Vietnam (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1975). Phạm Duy writes that "lý" means villagers song. It contrasts with 'hò" - folksongs that arise from work. "Lý chim quyên" could be translated as "Village song of the cuckoo." Phạm Duy's lyrics are written in a strong southern dialect - quyên becomes khuyền.

Lý chim quyên

Chim khuyền guầy

Ăn trái guây

Nhẵn lồng ơi con bạn mình ơi

Thia lia guầy

Quen chậu guây

Vợ chồng

Vợ chồng ở con bạn mình hơi!

The nightingale

eats

longans,

My friend!

The paradise-fish

inhabiting the bowl

like husband and wife 

get accustomed to each other

Viết Chung made an arrangement of this folksong, sung by Thanh Tuyền) that is seemingly based on Phạm Duy's interpretation.

Phạm Duy's transcription includes padding syllables - chữ đệm like ơi, guây (quây), bạn mình - that turn a couplet of lục bát folk poetry into a song. Lục bát means six-eight and refers to the six and eight syllable division. The sixth syllable of the upper line sets the rhyme for the sixth syllable of the following line (lồng - chồng), an aid to memorization.

Chim quyên ăn trái nhãn lồng, 

Thia lia quen chậu, vợ chồng quen hơi.

I would translate the couplet:

The cuckoo eats the longan,

Siamese fighting fish get used to their jar, wife and husband get used to the air.

Hơi means air, but also atmosphere, odor and also implies vitality. The cá thia lia is also known as the cá xiêm. It really is a fighting fish, but the lesson of the song is that within the bounds of a jar it gives up on those fighting tendencies. The word "quen" means to come to know and to grow accustomed to. A husband and wife might also have a tendency to fight within the bounds of "air" - the shared air of a household, but they grow accustomed to one another and hopefully arrive at some kind of harmony in their relationship. Folk wisdom suggests that - the reality of rural Vietnam was that often families decided who got married to who. The future bride and groom had little to say and had to work things out themselves. This, I suppose, was as natural and inevitable as the cuckoo bird's hunger for longan fruit and fighting fish giving up the fight. It is interesting that the bird appears to live in the open and chooses what to eat, while the fish and people and constrained and make the best of things.

The broken relationship started with a pinky promise - ngoéo tay nhau. It sounds like this relationship had conflict (fighting fish) but she believed it was solid and it obviously meant a great deal to her. He became an ingrate who betrayed their "karmic" tie. Like Vinh Sử's song "Sao muốn giết người yêu," the song's narrator thinks murderous thoughts about their former beloved. In the one case, these thoughts were more like a recurring daydream, in "Phản bội" she wants him wiped away from within her dreams.

The sheet music cover at the top of this entry has a few interesting details. It shows the head of a woman singing that transforms as the image descends into an anatomical drawing. Line segments appear to connect organs of the body to attributes of the musical scale shown on a staff skewing upward. The "hỏi" tone in phản is simply presented as a comma. The "nặng" tone in bội is a Playboy bunny symbol (representing the former lover's dalliances?) and the circumflex (＾) on top of the word is shaped into a leaping fish (a fighting fish?).

Không còn nhớ người yêu (I No Longer Miss My Lover) - Vinh Sử + Chế Thuyền Trần (1973)

Ngâm thơ

Biết nhớ em nhiều cũng thế thôi
Nhớ em em có nhớ gì tôi
Từ nay vui với đời sương gió
Vui với rượu nồng với chính tôi.

recited poem:

Knowing I miss you so much, it's just that

Missing you, do you miss me at all?

From now I'll be happy with a life of rain and dew

Happy with hard liquor, with me, myself.

HABANERA 

Tôi không còn thương nhớ người yêu.

I no longer care about or miss my lover.
Từ em cô dâu sính lễ qua cầu.

Since you, the bride with your wedding presents, crossed the bridge.
Nỡ quên kỷ niệm ngày thơ ấu, trò chơi "cưới hỏi" đầy yêu dấu, tôi chú rể em làm cô dâu...

How could you forget our childhood memories, our "engagement" toys full of affection, me, the groom, you, the bride...

Tôi không còn thương nhớ người ta.

I no long care about or miss somebody.
Tìm vui thâu đêm quán nhỏ tay ngà.

Search for happiness the long night at small taverns, ivory hands
Với ai chẳng lần mình quen biết, với ai chẳng cần gì tha thiết, tôi quên người quên cả chính tôi.

Whoever I'm with at no time will I know her, will I need sincerity, I've forgotten her, forgotten even myself.   

Thuở xa xưa, tôi ngây thơ nghĩ rằng, nếu khi vắng em rồi, chắc là tôi sẽ khó sống.

Long ago and faraway, I naively thought that, if you had left my life, probably it would be hard for me to go on.
Để bây giờ em cho tôi hiểu đời, tôi đã mất em rồi, thì tôi cũng vậy mà thôi.

So now you've showed me how to understand life, I lost you already, it's the all the same with me.  

Nên không còn thương nhớ đầy vơi.

So I can no longer care or miss any more or any less.
Giờ không ai yêu cũng chẳng yêu người.

Now no one loves me, I don't love her at all.
Chỉ vui với cuộc đời đây đó, chỉ vui với bạn bè sương gió, tôi không còn thương nhớ đến ai.
I'll just be happy with that  kind of life, a friend of mist and wind, I'll not longer care or miss any one.

Vinh Sử, "Không còn nhớ người yêu" (Sài Gòn: [Tác giả], [1973]).

The sheet music cover for "Không còn nhớ người yêu" is remarkable. A pretty young woman is in the midst of a striptease while in the lower left corner a dim face with what can only be described as a shit-faced smile is foregrounded. 

Is this the "đời sương gió" represented in the song lyrics? Sương gió - literally dew and wind - suggests exposure to the elements, meaning that one has experienced great hardship. In Lam Phương's song "Kiếp nghèo" "gió sương" describes a difficult itinerant life. The man on the cover of "Không còn nhớ người yêu" looks like he is feeling no pain.

A cute flashback to a couple of little kids acting out their future wedding engagement sets the song's scenario. The pair obviously knew each other well and felt friendship and affection for each other. We don't know why he lost her. Of course, feelings change over time. In other songs, the young woman could either be pressed into a marriage arrangement by her parents or tempted by a rich suitor. Or maybe she just fell in love with somebody else? There is also the possibility that the male protagonist of this song is just a bum. His subsequent life choices suggest that.

The lyrics of the song do portray his affection for her as having been sincere and losing her is a staggering loss. These words present his dissipation a little more subtly than the sheet music's cover. "Tìm vui thâu đêm quán nhỏ tay ngà." He looks for fun at small club, with "tay ngà" - ivory hands - i.e., the fairer sex. These are delicate, well-cared for hands. It takes money to "thâu đêm" / spend the whole night with a woman like that. Such extravagantly self-destructive behavior may have been autobiographical as this article suggests.

The hallmark of Vinh Sử's songs of this time is the overly dramatic reaction to life's setbacks. "Trời ghen má đỏ" shows a woman feeling lost and forlorn at the sudden death of her newly wed husband. In "Sao muốn giết người yêu," in his agony of losing the person he loves most imagines killing her. "Khi không" shows the despair that comes with a lover's sudden betrayal.

Vinh Sử credited Chế Huyền Trần as a co-author. One of his many pennames, the surname Chế suggests someone of Chăm ethnicity. Chế Linh introduced this song and many other Vinh Sử songs arguably launching and sustaining his career.

"Trời ghen má đỏ" (Heaven Is Jealous of Crimson Cheeks) - Vinh Sử + Linh Ngân (1972)

SLOW ROCK

Năm mười bảy tuổi em đi lấy chồng

At seventeen I left and married

Trong nhờ đục chịu phận gái sang sông

Pure owing to the murk of a girl's fate crossing the river  
Tưởng vui hết nghĩa tơ hồng, ngờ đâu sớm để tang chồng, trời ghen má đỏ môi hồng...

You would think it happy to complete the rosy silk bond of fidelity, who would suspect that I would soon mourn my husband, heaven is jealous of crimson cheeks and rosy lips. 

Năm mười bảy tuổi duyên em lỡ làng.

At seventeen my fated love was frustrated.  
Ba chìm bảy nổi một chuyến sang ngang.

Vicissitudes, sinking and resurfacing on the voyage crossing over  
Thủy chung gánh gãy giữa đàng, thuyền quyên trống trải vô vàn, từng đêm suối lệ tuôn tràn.

Loyalty shouldered, snapped in the middle of the road, a pretty damsel completely vulnerable, each night a stream of tears flowing 

Bao nhiêu bến mộng trong đời, mà em bến đục, tình em ngậm ngùi.

So many dream docks in life, but I'm at a murky dock, my love in grief
Tim em lá đổ trăm chiều, gió mưa tiu đìu, nghe xót xa nhiều.

My heart of falling leaves for a hundred evenings, of desolate wind and rain, feeling much torment.

Năm mười bảy tuổi tin yêu mất rồi.

At seventeen, love and trust are lost.  
Em về bèo bọc một kiếp đơn côi

I return like foam and duckweed, to a solitary destiny  
Nợ duyên gánh gãy ngang trời tuổi xuân chết rủ không lời, thời con gái cũng qua rồi.

Karmic debt, shouldered burden snapped at the horizon, dead in the spring of life, dangling wordless, the girl's time has passed.  

nguồn: Linh Ngân & Vinh Sử, "Trời ghen má đỏ" (Sài Gòn: [Tác giả], [không năm])

Giáng Thu recorded "Trời ghen má đỏ" on the Kim Đằng 1 tape, released in August 1973 - less than two years before the fall of the Republic of Vietnam. I have no information for who Linh Ngân is. The lyrics for this song are a little more poetic and complex than other Vinh Sử songs, so perhaps that was Linh Ngân's contribution? The song is alternately known (and maybe better known) by the title "Năm em 17 tuổi" (The Year I Turned Seventeen).

The subject of this song - the sorrow of widowed of a young woman - is an unusual theme for a Republic of Vietnam popular song. Although war in no way factors into the lyrics of the song, by 1973 there were many thousands of young war widows in the Republic of Vietnam. The state media of that time would have frowned upon a song like this and I think it was only commercially released because the Paris Accords earlier that year brought about the illusion of peace.

To understand this song, it helps to realize that rural Vietnam has a largely riparian countryside. Often the neighboring village was a short ferry ride across the tributary of a river. The term "bến mộng" comes out sounding odd in translation - the dock of dreams. But, traditionally, when a young woman wed she might have to set out with her new family across a river, the river dock becoming the threshold of her new life. That may not have been literally the case for the protagonist in this song or listeners who identified with the meaning of the song, but this "going across" (sang ngang) or "crossing the river (sang sông), was a popular metaphor for a young woman leaving her own family and natal village and becoming a member of new family and a new village.

This song appropriates well-known imagery from Nguyễn Du's classic novel-in-verse The Story of Kiều. Coming very early in this work, nearly all Vietnamese would be familiar with this couplet:

Lạ gì bỉ sắc tư phong,

Trời xanh quen thói má hồng đánh ghen.

It's not unusual that something is perfect in some ways and lacking in others

The blue heaven's have known the habit of striking down rosy cheeks in jealousy

This metaphor helps explain the vicissitudes of Thúy Kiều within the poem's longer narrative. A more enduring meaning applies to its invocation by generations of Vietnamese women over the years. The beauty of young, rosy cheeks may represent a form of perfection, however, there are invisible forces that punish women for their youth and beauty. 

The song also incorporates another line from the Story of Kiều.

Sợ khi ong bướm đãi đằng,

Đến điều sống đục, sao bằng thác trong!

I fear when touched by bees and butterflies, 

Those things living in murk, how can they compare to a limpid waterfall!

This poetry is very indirect, but also very well understood by Vietnamese. "Ong bướm" (bees and butterflies) is the subtlest way to refer to carnal activity. These insects are attracted to beautiful flowers, take what they desire and fly away. At this stage of the story, Kiều has been sold to a brothel and struggles to retain her chastity. She rejects đục (a word for murky, fetid water) for trong (pure, clear water). 

The application of this metaphor is a little complicated within the song. The narrator has apparently behaved properly in wedding her husband. It is no fault of hers that he is dead. It does mean that she likely had entertained his advances (bee/butterfly) but within the bounds of propriety. "Trong nhờ đục chịu phận gái sang sông" - her purity was owing to being sullied because of her fate to cross the river. My best explanation is that the song arises from the desperation from a recent loss. The misery is real but, within a longer perspective, perhaps over dramatized. She reasonably dreamed of a long, blissful wedded life and starting a family and at the moment of this narrative, that appears to be an impossibility. In retrospect, everything about getting married appears to have been ill-fated. 

"Bèo bọc" is another important metaphor that returns us to the river. Bèo is a weed-like plant that often is seen slowly drifting with the current. Bọc here is a regional mispronunciation of Bọt - the foam that forms on the river's surface that is also swept along. It suggests both insignificance and lack of control or agency.

The song hits its highest note in each of the three verses with an upward ornamental arpeggio at the words "hết nghĩa" and twice at "gánh gãy." In these cases the second syllable employs the ngã or broken rising tone - a tone that is difficult to employ in Westernized song. (I've discussed this a little bit in an earlier post).

"Nghĩa" is one of the most positive virtues meaning uprightness or fidelity. "Hết" means to finish or complete. "Gánh" is a burden or to carry a burden, literally bearing the burden of a pole with heavy objects at one or both ends. "Gãy" means that that pole has broken - a disaster for the person carrying the burden. The burden remains but there is no simple way to convey it now.

"Gánh gãy" is the inversion of a familiar image from a folk saying:

Trăm năm dốc nguyện đá vàng
Dè đâu gãy gánh giữa đàng khó toan

One hundred years pouring myself into a vow of burnished gold

Could I ever expect the pole to break along the way, it was inconceivable

This couplet further complements the meaning within "Trời ghen má đỏ." One hundred years stands for a happy marriage into old age. Golden vows are highly valued and sturdy. With this, the pole bearing the happy load that was supposed to last for the planned hundred years broke.

There was an American pop song by Janis Ian called "At Seventeen." It tells a very different story from a very different context. However, the seventeen could be seen as an age when it really hits home that childhood/girlhood is over. The popularity of "Trời ghen má đỏ" is perhaps more fully realized by the alternate title "Năm em 17 tuổi." The song is written as a "slow rock" following a 12/8 meter with a light, bluesy "swing" feel to it.

Almost all Vietnamese songwriters and lyricists have been men. Vinh Sử was adept at creating short emotional, melodramatic scenes. The worst thing in the world has happened and it needs to be stated using familiar imagery, what could be called hooks. 

Kỷ niệm thời con gái (Memories of When I Was A Young Woman) - Vinh Sử, Nguyên Thảo (1970)

HABANERA

Kỷ niệm thời con gái xa xôi...

Memories of when I was a young girl are long past...
Buồn vui mình mãi nhớ trong đời.

Both sad and happy, I'll remember them always throughout my life.
Những ngày thân ái Anh Tôi, ân tình em ấp trên môi, tin yêu thời con gái.

Those affectionate days with My Boy, my grateful lips enfolded, the loving trust of when I was a young woman.

Cuộc tình nào không chóng phôi pha?

Is there ever a love that does not quickly fade?
Nụ hoa nào chẳng sắc hương nhoà?

Or a flower whose tint and fragrance don't tarnish?
Có loài tim vỡ như hoa, ngôi tình yêu thoáng bay xa, thôi viết tâm sự bài ca.

There are hearts rent like a flower, love's dignity flies faraway in flash, fine, I'll confide it in a song.

Xưa kia đôi khi vẫn biết yêu đương là chết trong lòng không ít Anh ơi.

Long, long ago, at times I knew that love is a dying in ones heart, not a little, my Dear.
Nên Em không mơ ngày cưới khi Anh bàn tới lo sợ chúng mình lìa đôi.

So I did not dream of a wedding day when You discussed the fear that the two of us would separate.

Kỷ niệm thời con gái băn khoăn.

Memories of when I was worried young woman.
Ngày xưa thường vẫn hỏi Anh rằng:

Long ago I often asked You:
"Nếu một mai sẽ ly tan, ôi buồn Anh trách Em chăng"?

"If tomorrow we break up, oh, will You blame Me for the sadness"? 
Anh nói: "Đâu phải tại nhau".

You said: "Not at all, it's both of us."


nguồn: Vinh Sử & Nguyên Thảo, "Kỷ niệm thời con gái" (Sài Gòn: Ẫn phẩm của NT, 1970).

"Kỷ niệm thời con gái" (Memories of When I Was a Young Woman), recorded by Giao Linh, is credited only to Nguyên Thảo on this record on the Dư Âm label. The record have been released during the summer of 1970. Like his other three songs released on 7 inch vinyl records, this song lists Nguyên Thảo as the co-creator, but Vinh Sử insisted to me that he was the sole author. 

A tale of love lost, it's apparent that she would be unable to live up their hope for a happy life together. The lyrics are rather clichéd, including a paraphrase of a famous line from "Yêu" (Love), Xuân Diệu's famed poem of the 1930s - "Yêu, là chết ở trong lòng một ít" (Love Means Dying Inside A Little). Xuân Diệu himself appropriated this image from the 1891 poem, "Chanson de l'adieu", by Edmond Haroucourt - "Partir, c'est mourir un peu" - "To part is to die a little"). 

Love's fading was unwilled by either of them. Often in Vietnamese poetry the passing of a flower's beauty and fragrance suggests that a woman's youth has passed. Here I think the flower stands for the beauty of a relationship that has had to end. Despite their ardent feelings, during the height of their romance neither of them believed that they could ever marry. Since she asks whether she is to blame, the underlying assumption is that they carried on their relationship knowing that she would be betrothed to another. The reasons for this are unstated -- either her parents had matched her with another partner, or he was of such a low station in life that he could never be considered as a son-in-law.

These are very sad memories, but they are happy to recall as well - "Buồn vui mình mãi nhớ trong đời." They both gave of themselves and received these memories in return. All along they were aware that a break-up was inevitable.