For Childhood

Starting All Over

After a period spent wallowing in songs of the heart, songs of an angry heart, kerbside songs, profane songs, war songs, songs of pity for the battlefield, etc. and then trying to ascend the heights with the Tao songs, in 1972 I fell back to earth. I fell into the past, a past that I shared with many people of my age. The past was a time of innocence, spent in a small town, sometimes wandering away the afternoons among the fields and not hearing mother's calls... Evenings spent sitting by father and mother, listening to the train's whistle and dreaming of travelling. I remembered the past and wanted to restart from the beginning. KỶ NIỆM
MEMORIES
(Saigon-1966)
Give me back those days
When the moon floated on top of the areca palm
When mother was sewing
By the oil lamp
When father was reading the newspaper
The streets were empty
In the dry night
I listened to the train's whistle.
Give me back the summer afternoons
When I walked along the country path
Good smelling rice on both sides
A bamboo grove in the distance
Here and there young buffaloes
Water murmuring by the dyke.
Entranced by the purple clouds in the sky
I didn't hear mother's calls.
Give me back the old school
Beloved by so many
Hated by no one
They all said I was well behaved
I loved my teacher
His voice so resonant
I followed the white dress
Of that girl in my class.

Give me back the season
Of rain in the suburbs
Every night a street lamp
Lit up a shrivelled heart.
I dreamed of becoming a millionaire
Who would save abandoned girls,
I dreamed of becoming a poet
Who would weave dreams out of words.

Give me back many things more
Give me back love
I don't need cleverness
I'm not asking for much
Give me a young naive heart
Ready to cry, ready to believe
Give me back my youth
Let me start all over
Let me start all over
I don't want the future yet
I want to start from childhood
Walking together in happiness
Hot blood in our hearts
Stars in our eyes
A flower on our shirt
A prayer on our lips.
CODA
Let me start all over
I don't want the future yet
Let me start all over
I don't want the future yet...

Bé Ca
Children Songs
I want to start all over again, from my childhood days! In the past decades, since ''new music'' was born until 1972, I had written many kinds of songs but only two were about children, EM BÉ QUÊ (The Country Child) and MỘT ÐÀN CHIM NHỎ (Fledging birds). Now I wanted first of all to resurrect the traditional children songs which I considered the fairest, purest specimens of traditional literature and music. Unfortunately, the French invasion and western cultural dominance had killed off traditional children songs by the beginning of the 20th century. No new songs had been written and sung, though Trương Tửu did write KINH THI VIỆT NAM (Vietnamese Poetry Classics). Now I want to revive them, with new sounds and new rhythms. I want them to have new meanings, more becoming of these times.

After restoring the old values, I wanted to go from old children songs to new ones, still with the same purity. I named these ''bé ca''. As an aside, when I met Vũ Khắc Khoan in Santa Ana in 1982, he asked ''Why don't you write something for those in their sixties'' I answerd: ''But I have! That's NHẠC TUỔI VÀNG, Song For The Golden Years''.

Children songs mean not oldies' songs! I started by writing the trio ÔNG TRĂNG XUỐNG CHƠI (The Moon Comes To Visit), CHÚ BÉ BẮT ÐƯỢC CON CÔNG (The Boy Caught A Peacock) and THẰNG BỢM (A Boy Named Bợm) (Note: The name is written with the descending ''nặng'' accent, not the level-low ''huyền'' accent as for the traditional children's character.)

ÔNG TRĂNG XUỐNG CHƠI
THE MOON CAME TO VISIT
(Saigon-1973)
The moon came to visit an areca palm, the palm gave its frond
The moon came to visit a schoolboy, the boy gave his pen
The moon came to visit the buddha, the buddha gave his pagoda
The moon came to visit the king, the king gave his army
The moon came to visit a temple, the abbot gave his rattle
The moon came to visit a pot, the pot gave its lid
The moon came to visit a fig tree, the tree gave its sap
The moon came to visit a horse, the horse gave its stable
The moon came to visit a fishing rod, the rod gave its hook
The moon came to visit a grapefruit tree, the tree gave its flowers
The moon came to visit a vegetable garden, the garden gave its eggplants
The moon came to visit apretty girl, the girl gave her husband
The moon came to visit a man, the man gave his wife
The moon gave back the wife to the man
The husband to the girl
The eggplants to the garden
The flower to the grapefruit tree
The hook to the rod
The stable to the horse
The sap to the fig tree
The lid to the pot
The rattle to the abbot
The soldiers to the king
The pagoda to Buddha
The pen to the schoolboy
The frond to the palm.

I see in ÔNG TRĂNG XUỐNG CHƠI a natural history lesson. In the old days children were taught that areca trees had fronds, Buđha had pagodas, the king had troops, etc. The moon was so beautiful that everybody wanted to give him what they had when he came to visit. The morale of ÔNG TRĂNG XUỐNG CHƠI was that he lived in the sky, came from the east to visit us one night, then disappeared into the west. He was so beautiful that he even made people give up their lovers to him. But he refused all these gifts, he gave back the hook to the fishing rod,the stable to the horse, the sap to the fig tree. He returned the troops to the king, the pagodas to the buddha, the pen to the student, the frond to the areca palm... and he left.

CHÚ BÉ BẮT ÐƯỢC CON CÔNG (The Boy Caught A Peacock) was a lesson about people in the family. The boy of this song had grandparents, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts with whom to barter and trade. Everybody in the family liked the peacock he had caught and tried to exchange for it with a chicken, a cuckoo, a persimmon or a bunch of areca nuts. The boy kept saying yes until this bartering led to a fight between uncle and auntie, then he obeyed his mother and took back the peacock. CHÚ BÉ BẮT ÐƯỢC CON CÔNG
THE BOY CAUGHT A PEACOCK
(Saigon-1973)
A peacock, the boy has caught a peacock
He traded it for gradpa's chicken
He traded it for grandma's persimmon
He traded for sister's lemon
He traded it for brother's cuckoo
He traded it for uncle's areca nuts
Then uncle and auntie started to fight.
The boy got scared
Mother told him to return the areca nuts
Auntie, uncle, please stop fighting!
Back to uncle went the areca nuts
Back to brother went the cuckoo
Back to sister went the lemon
Back to grandma went the persimmon
Back to grandpa went the chicken
Do you hear my boy
The peacock, the boy took back the peacock,
The peacock , the boy held tight to the peacock

I took the story of THẰNG BỜM (The Simpleton) but changed his name to THẰNG BỢM (The Trickster). In my story, Bợm will not be stupid like Bờm, who traded his palmleaf fan for a small piece of sticky rice from the rich man, when the latter was prepared to offer five cows, nine buffaloes, a string of fish, a raft of ironwood, plus a precious bird. In the conclusion to the ancient rhyme, everybody seemed to praise Bờm for being practical minded, thinking of simply filling his stomach rather than about getting all these riches. I maintained that the rich man took advantage of Bờm. This time, when he meets Bợm, the latter will take everything from the rich man and run away and still keep his fan. In 1998, the video company THÚY NGA asked me to write and choreograph THẰNG BỜM into a song and dance act to be performed by the singers Ái Vân và Kiều Hưng. I wrote another version of this ancient rhyme, based on the theme of wealth and peace of mind.

THẰNG BỢM
A BOY CALLED BỢM
(Saigon-1973)
A boy called Bợm he had a palmleaf fan
The rich rich man he offered
Three cows and nine buffaloes
Bợm he just shook his head
The rich rich man he offered
A pond full of fish, but Bợm just kept mum
The rich rich man he offered
A raft of ironwood, but Bợm just kept mum
The rich man he offered
A precious bird, but Bợm did not say a word
Bợm he did not say a word
The rich man he offered
A piece of sticky rice, and Bợm burst out laughing
With one hand he held his fan
With the other he grabbed the cows and the buffaloes
And he ran, and he ran
And he grabbed the fish
And the wood
And the bird
And the rice
He ran and ran
And ran and ran
While the rich man shouted and cursed.

Those three children songs revolve around giving and trading. A logical offer is accepted, an illogical one that causes fighting is not. One should not try to cheat people who are small and powerless.

The ''Bé Ca'' lead to songs that, although they did not evolve from children's rhymes, still stayed in the world of children. One such is BÉ BẮT DẾ (Catching Crickets) which follows. However, this song was an allegory for the war situation in Vietnam at the time, based on the Vietnamese children's pastime of catching crickets and organizing cricket fights. The cricket said: ''I am a singer, not a fighter! Let me sing, don't make me fight!'' BÉ BẮT DẾ
CATCHING CRICKETS
(Saigon-1974)
Look, boy! A cricket is perching on the bamboo
Catch him and take him home, he'll sing for you!
Don't make him fight though
He's not guilty of any crime.
Look, boy! The cricket is in his hole
Dig him up and put him in a box
But don't make cricket fight
It will upset him
It will upset him
He's not guilty of any crime.
He's not guilty of any crime.

Look, boy! The cricket was in the country
The war came and he had to run away
Now he is in the street
Living a migrant's life
Living a migrant's life.
Listen, boy! The cricket and the cicada
They concertize right through summer
When rain and sunshine make the fields grow
The cricket sings to the harvest
The cricket sings to the harvest

Look, boy! The cricket is staying with you
He also likes to watch TV
He sees the spaceship reach the moon
But he can't see the moon fairy
But he can't see the moon fairy
Look, boy! The cricket is impressed
He sings: So clever these humans
But what they lack is love
Their hearts are full of violence
Their hearts are full of violence
Boy, finish your homework quick!
So that you can let the cricket watch TV.

Listen, boy! Let's follow the cricket to the dyke
Let's get some clay so we can make some toys
Let's make hands and feet
To give to the cripples
To give to the cripples
Listen, boy! Let's follow the cricket to the settlement
Look at the old man hacking the jungle to start a garden
And share his life with those orphans
Let's wish them luck in their new life
Let's wish them luck in their new life
Listen, boy! The cricket is asking for some marbles
To give to the migrant children

Listen, boy! The cricket has to go now!
He has to sing madrigals on the highways
He has to go to his mother's village
To reconcile his parents with a song
Listen, boy! Maybe he will go back to the rivers
Or to the forest to sing with the peacocks
Or to the golden sands to sing with the pines
In the misty world
In the misty world
Listen, boy! It's time for the cricket to go
But he'll return one day.

Today's children songs are descriptive rather than allegorical like the old children rhymes. They aim to strengthen the bond between brothers: ÐƯA BÉ ÐẾN TRƯỜNG
TAKING LITTLE BROTHER TO SCHOOL
(Saigon-1974)
I'm taking you to school on my bicycle
As we step outside dawn is breaking
Mum and dad told us to go early
Get on, brother, so we can start
From our small neighborhood we go
Past familiar winding streets
To the busy park full of vehicles
Through the thronging crowds
You talk nonstop all the way
Ancient tales, fairy tales
They go in one ear and out the other
Have a break, brother, there's a hill here
I can hardly breathe going up this slope
Keep quiet so I can peddle
Rolling, rolling, jingling, jingling
Suddenly you asked me to stop by the margosa
Let's hurry, no time to stop now
They won't be waiting for you
I think the school bells are already ringing.

I pick you up after school in the cold rainy afternoon
We share a mantle
Poor pretty little bicycle, so wet
But a peal of church bells warms our heart.
I pick you up after school in the grey rainy afternoon
We ride past lines of silent streetlamps
Shivering you hold on to the handlebar
Hunching my back I peddle hard
But you haven't forgotten to talk
About the full mark you got at school
But I can't really hear you
The rain is so heavy
The street is narrow and slippery
Keep quiet so I can peddle
Round and round we go, heavy is the rain
Your feet and mine are wet from the splashes
We start singing to forget the cold
Let's sing together, brother to brother
When we love each other life is heaven
One day we'll be apart but memories will stay
Of the days when I carry you to school on my bike
When I carry you with brotherly love
I'm so happy when I carry you
As happy as carrying my lover
One day when you are big and famous
And drive around in a new car
Make sure you don't run over my pushbike, little one!
Make sure you don't run over my pushbike, little one!

The morale of ÐƯA BÉ ÐẾN TRƯỜNG is in the last line.

ÐỐT LÁ TRÊN SÂN is also about bridging the generation gap.
ÐỐT LÁ TRÊN SÂN
BURNING LEAVES IN THE YARD
(Saigon-1974)
If you love me, little brother, come to stay
Under a simple roof by a green garden
We'll share some books in the daytime
In the afternoon we'll water the garden and sweep the leaves
We'll gather the leaves into small heaps
You'll let me light the fires
The sun has gone, the wind has died
The day has left in a dreamy evening
A little smoke rises
Light and graceful smoke
Tattered, blinding smoke
Beautiful smoke

Do you know, this white smoke
It brings back many gentle memories
Of days long ago when I was your age
When dad and mum were still with us and we burnt dry leaves
It reminds me of happy days
Images of homeland, of young men
Of women spinning silk, of fragrant ricefields
Of army music on the highway
Little smoke rising
Light and graceful smoke
Tattered, blinding smoke
Beautiful smoke.

Burning leaves in the yard, I remember every spark
By the river bank where a boat was anchored for the night
A heartwarming folk song
A sweet lullaby about an ancient love
Burning leaves in the yard, I smell the acrid smoke
Tears come to my eyes and I feel ashamed
The fire clouds my eyes with memories
But it makes your cheeks more rosy
Little smoke rising
Light and graceful smoke
Tattered, blinding smoke
Beautiful smoke.

A series of children songs were born in 1974, but regretfully they did not have the chance to become well known because our lives suđenly fell apart in 1975. We lost everything! I should consider myself lucky for having the opportunity to mention them now.

After these very simple songs, the form of ''bé ca'' was developed significantly. BÉ, CÂY ÐÀN, NGÔI NHÀ XANH, ÐỒI CỎ (The Child, The Guitar, The Green House, The Grassy Hill) was a fairly long story, divided into several sections with different rhythms. It goes as follows: ''... as I was walking in a sunny spring morning, I saw a child holding a guitar by a house on a green hill. I came up to him and he mad me play the guitar for him. After I finished playing and walked down the hill, I looked back and suđenly realized he was very lonely.''
BÉ, CÂY ÐÀN NGÔI NHÀ XANH, ÐỒI CỎ
THE CHILD, THE GUITAR, THE GREEN HOUSE, THE GRASSY HILL
(Saigon-1974)
One spring morning when a cheerful sun was shining
I was crossing a hill where birds were singing
Under my feet the grass was wet and soft
A hesitant breeze came to play on the velvety carpet.
By chance I came across a green house
Where yellow butterflies were fluttering
By the hedge I saw
A doe-eyed child holding a guitar
Was he a pure drop of dew
Sleeping on the grass in the field?
Was he a gem-eyed deer
Were his hands as clumsy as his age?

He raised his hand across a gentle brow
Smile and said hello, like a bird named Quyên
The guitar was only slightly shorter than him
I thought I had stumbled into wonderland
Tilting his head he handed me the guitar
And asked for a happy piece, like a bird song
Suddenly I felt the blue sky brighten
In his dark eyes a magical music played

To please my little chance acquaintance
I started playing while he leant against the door
A dragonfly came by
And listened with the child in the rising sun.
(solo guitar)
One spring morning when a cheerful sun was shining
Shining on a happy house
Coloring the grass blades with gold
Tinting life with a rosy glow
After playing I returned the guitar to the child
He thanked me with a glowing smile
Waving good bye I walked down the hill
He stood holding the guitar, all alone
He stood holding the guitar, all alone
He stood holding the guitar, all alone.

TRONG TIẾNG ÐÀN CỦA ANH, TRONG TIẾNG CƯỜI CỦA EM (In The Sound Of My Guitar, In The Sound Of Your Laughter) complemented BÉ, CÂY ÐÀN, NGÔI NHÀ XANH, ÐỒI CỎ. Since I sang about the guitar sound in my first songs, decades before, this was the first time I mentioned it again.
TRONG TIẾNG ÐÀN CỦA ANH TRONG TIẾNG CƯỜI CỦA EM
IN THE SOUND OF MY GUITAR IN THE SOUND OF YOUR LAUGHTER
(Saigon-1974)
YOUNGER BROTHER:
In the sound of your guitar I hear a pain
A sadness that follows the suffering of our country
In the sound of your guitar I hear a sorrow
Like the tears of a young woman on the wharf
In the sound of your guitar I hear the music of Ly Tao
Life is so fleeting, quickly fading
Sometimes the guitar is plaintive, or angry, or sobbing
How can a broken string join two hearts?
The sound of your guitar...
OLDER BROTHER:
In the sound of your laughter I see a blue color
I see the clear sky, the wholesome sun
In the sound of your laughter I see love
Faith reborn on trembling fingers
In the sound of your laughter I see the love of Mother and Father
I see our prople, nowhere I see hatred
In the sound of your laughter I see a harmony
I feel like the heavens are coming close to us
The sound of your laughter!
YOUNGER BROTHER:
O the sound of your guitar, where never were forgotten
The troubles visited on our gentle nation
O the sound of your guitar, filled with sadness
Yet praying for a lessening of the burdens we bear
OLDER BROTHER:
O the sound of your laughter, please continue to ring
O the sound of your laughter, forever the gentle sound
O the sound of your laughter in my music
O the sound of my guitar in your laughter!
TOGETHER:
O the sound of our hearts, of our hearts!

From 1973 to 1975, in my children songs, I travelled from restored children rhymes to songs that join two generations, children and adolescents. I also took them to the stages of story music and fairy tale music, writing pieces with several sections. In 1975, I wrote two more children songs. I have forgotten CON ỐC SÊN VÀ HÒN ÐÁ CUỘI (The Snail And The Pebble), but here is MỘT CON CHIM NHỎ TRÊN CÀNH YÊU THƯƠNG (A Little Bird On The Branch Of Love). This has really become an aldult song! MỘT CON CHIM NHỎ TRÊN CÀNH YÊU THƯƠNG
A LITTLE BIRD ON THE BRANCH OF LOVE
(Saigon-1975)
A little bird on the branch of love
Raises its voice to sing about the passing Vietnamese night
The sap of Peace is running down the dry branch
The rain of Peace is washing mother's hair behind the mirror
Bamboos are swaying with the waves
The sun is shining on Vietnam like a dream
Green fields are waiting for the breeze
Flowers are blooming, tombstones are becoming forgotten
A white square of silk, a countryside smelling of grapefruit flowers
A garden, dreaming in the long sleep
A noontime on the homeland, fragrant words mother sings
Their echo like a veil of rain on the river
Tall mountain ranges surrounding childhood
An evening wind bringing color to your lips
Once little birds went to live in the forest
Now they have come back to the rising smoke by the river
A little bird on a young branch
Singing its boundless love for Vietnam
Green meadows spread out to receive the dew
The river lies down to wait for a life companion.

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