Mầu Tím Hoa Sim
Nàng có ba người anh đi bộ đội
Những em nàng có em chưa biết nói
Khi tóc nàng xanh xanh
***
Tôi người Vệ-Quốc-Quân xa gia đình
Yêu nàng như tình yêu em gái
Ngày hợp-hôn nàng không đòi may áo mới
Tôi mặc đồ quân-nhân đôi giày đinh bết bùn đất hành quân
Nàng cười xinh-xinh bên anh chồng độc-đáo
Tôi ở đơn-vị về cưới nhau xong là đi
***
Từ chiến-khu xa nhớ về ái-ngại
Lấy chồng đời chiến-binh mấy người đi trở lại!
Nhỡ khi mình không về thì thương
người vợ chờ bé-bỏng chìều quê
***
Nhưng không chết người trai khói-lửa
mà chết người gái nhỏ hậu-phương
Tôi về không gặp nàng
Má tôi ngồi bên mộ con đầy bóng tối
Chiếc bình hoa ngày cưới thành bình hương tàn lạnh vây quanh
Tóc nàng xanh-xanh ngắn chưa đầy búi
Em ơi! Giây phút cuối không được nghe nhau nói
Không được trông nhau một lần...
***
Ngày xưa nàng yêu hoa sim tím
Áo nàng mầu tím hoa sim
Ngày xưa đèn khuya bóng nhỏ
Nàng vá cho chồng tấm áo ngày xưa!...
***
Một chiều rừng mưa ba người anh từ chiến-trường Đông Bắc
Biết tin em gái mất trước tin em lấy chồng!
Gió thu về rờn-rợn nước sông
Đứa em nhỏ lớn lên ngỡ-ngàng nhìn ảnh chị
Khi gió thu về cỏ vàng chân mộ chí!
Chiều hành-quân qua những đồi hoa sim
Những đồi hoa sim
Những đồi hoa sim dài trong chiều không hết,
Màu tím hoa sim tím chiều hoang biền-biệt...
Có ai ví như từ chiều ca dao nào xưa xa:
“Áo anh sứt chỉ đường tà
Vợ anh chưa có, mẹ già chưa khâu”
***
Ai hát vô-tình hay ác-ý với nhau
Chiều hoang tím có chiều hoang biết
Chiều hoang tím tím thêm màu da-diết...
Nhìn áo rách vai tôi hát trong mầu hoa:
“Áo anh sứt chỉ đường tà
Vợ anh mất sớm...!”
Mầu tím hoa sim tím tình tang lệ rớm...
***
Ráng vàng ma và sừng rúc điệu quân-hành
Vang-vọng chập-chờn theo bóng những binh-đoàn
Biền-biệt hành-binh vào thăm-thẳm chiều hoang mầu tím...
***
Tôi ví vọng về đâu
Tôi với vọng về đâu?
-- áo anh nát chỉ dù ... lâu!
Hữu Loan
***
The Purple Colour of Downy Rose Myrtle Flower by Huu Loan
She has three brothers who joined the army
Some of her younger brothers have not learned to speak properly
While her long hair is still black and shiny
***
I, a National Guard, who have been away from my own family
Who love her as much as I do my younger sister, and as dearly
She does not insist on wearing a new dress on her wedding day
I am in my army uniform, with muddy shoes from missions far away
She smiles prettily, standing beside the husband who looks so interesting
I, having returned from my company, depart again right after the wedding
***
From the distant battle zones, I think of her with great concern
Marrying a soldier in war time, who can guarantee for his own return!
If, by chance, my return could not come to be
Then what a pity for the little wife who stays back, waiting in the country
***
But death does not happen to the man living in the fury of the battlefront
But it does to the tiny girl who lives in the rear region
I could not see her face in my homecoming
My mother sits beside her grave while darkness is covering
The vase in wedding day becomes the incense bowl, in a coldness so deadly
While her hair, not yet a full bun, is still black and shiny
Alas, my love! I cannot hear your dying whispering the last time
Nor can I see your lovely face only for the last time...
***
She used to love, with all her heart, the purple downy rose myrtle flower
She wore no other colours except the downy rose myrtle flower’s colour
She used to stay up late under the light of a little oil lamp by herself
To mend her husband’s old shirt so he could be looking well!
***
One rainy day, her three brothers in the Northeast battlefront far away
Receive the news of her passing away before that of her wedding day!
While the autumn winds ruffle the surface of the home river
The growing little brother looks strangely at his sister’s picture
Autumn winds blow; the grass at her stele’s bottom becomes yellower!
The afternoon operation passes the hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers
Oh those hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers
Hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers that are furthest and endless
The flower’s purple colour makes you feel the blue the deepest...
Someone recites the old proverb as if it is in a song’s rhyme:
“My shirt has the threads loosened at the hem for so long a time
I am not yet married, and my old mother has not mended it for some time”
***
Who knows whether the proverb is sung unintentionally, or intentionally
Only a desolate afternoon appreciates a blue purple afternoon fully
O purple, the colour of which deepens as the tormenting lovesick colour...
Looking at the shoulder-torn shirt, I sing against the colour of the flowers:
“My shirt has the threads loosened at the hem for so long a time
My wife has passed away at early age for some time...!”
The purple colour of the downy rose myrtle flower still makes me cry...
***
Ghostly golden clouds are on the skyline and the sound of a horn’s march
Echoing, flickering, and shadowing the companies of army who depart
Away for operations into a deepest purple afternoon, as it is in your heart...
Where can I recite the proverb to?
And where and who can I reach to?
--- My shirt’s threads have broken ... for so long too!
***
The Purple Colour of Downy Rose Myrtle Flower by Huu Loan
She has three brothers who joined the army
Some of her younger brothers have not learned to speak properly
While her long hair is still black and shiny
***
I, a National Guard, who have been away from my own family
Who love her as much as I do my younger sister, and as dearly
She does not insist on wearing a new dress on her wedding day
I am in my army uniform, with muddy shoes from missions far away
She smiles prettily, standing beside the husband who looks so interesting
I, having returned from my company, depart again right after the wedding
***
From the distant battle zones, I think of her with great concern
Marrying a soldier in war time, who can guarantee for his own return!
If, by chance, my return could not come to be
Then what a pity for the little wife who stays back, waiting in the country
***
But death does not happen to the man living in the fury of the battlefront
But it does to the tiny girl who lives in the rear region
I could not see her face in my homecoming
My mother sits beside her grave while darkness is covering
The vase in wedding day becomes the incense bowl, in a coldness so deadly
While her hair, not yet a full bun, is still black and shiny
Alas, my love! I cannot hear your dying whispering the last time
Nor can I see your lovely face only for the last time...
***
She used to love, with all her heart, the purple downy rose myrtle flower
She wore no other colours except the downy rose myrtle flower’s colour
She used to stay up late under the light of a little oil lamp by herself
To mend her husband’s old shirt so he could be looking well!
***
One rainy day, her three brothers in the Northeast battlefront far away
Receive the news of her passing away before that of her wedding day!
While the autumn winds ruffle the surface of the home river
The growing little brother looks strangely at his sister’s picture
Autumn winds blow; the grass at her stele’s bottom becomes yellower!
The afternoon operation passes the hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers
Oh those hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers
Hills full of downy rose myrtle flowers that are furthest and endless
The flower’s purple colour makes you feel the blue the deepest...
Someone recites the old proverb as if it is in a song’s rhyme:
“My shirt has the threads loosened at the hem for so long a time
I am not yet married, and my old mother has not mended it for some time”
***
Who knows whether the proverb is sung unintentionally, or intentionally
Only a desolate afternoon appreciates a blue purple afternoon fully
O purple, the colour of which deepens as the tormenting lovesick colour...
Looking at the shoulder-torn shirt, I sing against the colour of the flowers:
“My shirt has the threads loosened at the hem for so long a time
My wife has passed away at early age for some time...!”
The purple colour of the downy rose myrtle flower still makes me cry...
***
Ghostly golden clouds are on the skyline and the sound of a horn’s march
Echoing, flickering, and shadowing the companies of army who depart
Away for operations into a deepest purple afternoon, as it is in your heart...
Where can I recite the proverb to?
And where and who can I reach to?
--- My shirt’s threads have broken ... for so long too!
Translated from Vietnamese into English
by Hương Cau Tân Cao
on 09 July, 2019 in British Columbia, Canada
by Hương Cau Tân Cao
on 09 July, 2019 in British Columbia, Canada
Hình ảnh đẹp mơ màng như dĩ vãng mờ ảo đi về lãng đãng. Xin cám ơn HCCT
Trả lờiXóaDạ không có chi!
XóaBài thơ của Tác Giả Hữu Loan cùng với bài thơ dịch của Hương Cau Cao Tân, đã mang đến cho vườn thơ nơi trang nhà Kim Phượng thêm ý vị.
Cám ơn và chúc Hương Cau Cao Tân cuối tuần an vui.