Setting Out
Voyage and Exile
Travels,
Imaginary and Real
THE BOAT HEADING FOR DISTANT SHORES
(1952)
In the twilight a haze is rising
Willow leaves flutter in the wind
Red clouds lie across the horizon
On the Ðà Giang river a boat is leaving port
Parting the reeds by the water's edge
It heads for distant shores.
From a faraway wellspring a song of eternity
Drifts through the afternoon rain.
Looking back towards the home village
It seems life has lost its way
Back at the village
By the weeping Ðà river
A silver haired mother silently sits
Thinking of her children.
To the homeland this evening
I send back many longings
From the heavens a world of sadness
Descends upon this foreign land.
A veil of haze is rising
By the water the willows weep
This evening a boat lifts anchor
Heading out for some distant shore...
At that time, however, nobody suspected that by 1975 many Vietnamese would clamber on planes and boats and leave their country to live as exiles. Perhaps sensing this departure far in the future, or perhaps because of the spiritual needs and wanderlust that had arisen since the days of BÊN CẦU BIÊN GIỚI, after THUYỀN VIỄN XỨ I went on (1953) to write VIỄN DU (LONG JOURNEY), which predicted this mass migration of Vietnamese who would head for the rivers and the seas in 1975.
LONG JOURNEY
(Saigon 1953)
Down the river!
We face the ocean, the immensity of space,
The uncertainties of life, and the fear in our heart
Open sea!
Our hearts fill with excitement, with love for the world,
With dreams for the future, with new hope and faith
Drifting on the endless waves
Pushed around on the stormy seas, we keep a steady hand on the helm.
Far away
O my friends
Let's together embark on a journey with no end in sight
Let us go
Into the immensity of water and sky
Europe and Asia are not that far away!
Let us travel
To all foreign lands, to see the globe,
Singing the Great Song Of Love (*)
. . . . . .
We shall pause at some shore
Where hamlets shelter by coconut groves
Whose hair the afternoon sun tints with gold.
We shall pause where hazy mountains
Stand waiting for the traveller to return
Until their head turns white.
We shall pause in cities bathed in dazzling light
Their people caught in the frenzy of life.
Pledging to travel the world
With scant thought of return
With a joyful heart we depart.
(*) originally I wanted to write ''khúc Ðại Ðồng Ca'' (Song To The Frontierless World)
1) a sentimental person, one who composes love songs for two or for one, i.e. who writes music for himself;
2) a social person who from Resistance songs and love songs for the homeland would progress to songs of the heart, profane songs , etc. I call this music for human harmony (harmony between man and society);
3) a spiritual person who would write music for natural harmony (harmonizing with nature and the supernatural), progressing to songs of the Way, songs of wandering, songs of Zen, etc.
As a general rule I would avoid following the Western classical style, I would not write intricate labyrinthine music, and I would avoid aestheticism (art for art's sake). My folk song style would be further elaborated technically, but its content would remain within social realism and the natural and simple quality of traditional art. The ideology would always keep to the orderliness of Confucianism, the naturalism of Taoism and the other wordliness of Buddhism. And above all else there would be the love for the homeland.
Having thus divided my objectives, I did not want to be bound by the themes of homeland, nation, love of life, or love of fellow humans, and so I wrote songs about dreams of travel and exile. And since I did not yet have the opportunity to make other long journeys such as walking the Mandarin (main) highway, crossing the borders of the three Indochinese countries, or holding a lover in my arms on the Eiffel Tower on the far side of the oceans, I made a journey in my mind. In a song with a metaphysical flavor, I started out on my voyage.
TRAVEL
(Saigon-1953)
Through the world he walks
Breathing the winds of millenia past
Winds that shake the Hoành Sơn range
Winds that raise the Eastern Sea
In the young spring he walks
Basking in the warmth of the life giving sun
His blood the color of the sky
Pressing on to outpace the world.
Walk on, press on.
Your heart swells with joy
Walk on, from wherever you come
Your heart is full of excitement.
Today love reigns
Love fills the cup
Eternity is in your heart
The future is in your hands.
In the universe he walks
Turning with the wheel of life and death
A hearse in the suburb
A cradle in a wreath
Through life he walks
A ragged shirt, a teahouse girl
Strength pouring on the field
Beloved rice plants, plain brown cloth.
A long way he has walked
But his legs are not tiring
Through time he has walked
Many loves have called
Through the world he has walked
Since the flames of war first stirred
And the soil buried the bones
And flowers covered the hills.
Walk on, press on
While earth and sky are still in darkness
Follow your heart, search for the ocean wind
You'll find the sun's rays.
Shoulder to shoulder
Brother, let's get together
To redress old wrongs.
Everywhere he goes
Chaste love makes a couple
A blanket makes a nest
A bowl of rice makes a love.
Endlessly they walk
The day joy comes to the world
With the flagrance of a rice harvest
He will head back home
Head back home ...
This song became a credo in my musical career. It would be followed by such songs as XUÂN HÀNH (Spring Travel) and DẠ HÀNH (Night Travel).
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