English poems.

Today I read an essay ''Edgar Allan Poe, hồi ức đau buồn và bất tận'' by Hoàng Tố Mai on Evăn section of vnexpress. It ''s said that Edgar Allan Poe is an important and influenced (unparalleled) author in XIX century American literature. And two poems : The Raven (con quạ) and The bells (Những cái chuông) are the most successful in Edgar ''s poetry. I tried finding and reading, but not understanding them well. I just write them down and wait to hear your voices on the beauty of those ''wonderful'' poems.
http://evan.vnexpress.net/Functions/WorkContent/?CatID=11&TypeID=40&WorkID=575
The Raven
Edgar Allen Poe


Once upon a midnight dreadry, while I pondered, weak
and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a
tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber
door.
"''Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber
door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon
the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of surrow, sorrow for the lost
Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name
Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt
before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood
repeating,
"''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber
door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This is it, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came
rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my cham-
ber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened
wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, won-
dering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to
dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no
token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
"Lenore?",
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me
burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than
before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window
lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
''Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of
yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or
stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my cham-
ber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber
door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it
wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art
sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the
nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night''s Pluton-
ian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so
plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his cham-
ber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his cham-
ber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did
outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he
fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered,"Other friends have
flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown
before."
Then the bird said,"Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and
store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful
disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one
burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and
bust and door;,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of
yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous
bird of yore
Meant in croaking, "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my
bosom''s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease re-
clining
On the cushion''s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated
o''er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating
o''er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an
unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted
floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these
angels he hath sent thee
Respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of
Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost
Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or
devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee
here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I im-
plore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we
both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant
Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name
Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name
Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!'' I shrieked,
upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night''s Pluton-
ian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath
spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above
my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form
from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon''s that is
dreaming.
And the lamplight o''er him streaming throws the shadow
on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on
the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

THE BELLS
by Edgar Allan Poe
1849
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I
Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through ********y air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ***ty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now?"now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells-
Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the peoplê?"ah, the people-
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All Alone
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells-
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells:
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
THE END
The complete works by Edgar Allan Poe:
http://eserver.org/books/poe/

THE BELLS
by Edgar Allan Poe
1849
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I
Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through ********y air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ***ty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now?"now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells-
Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the peoplê?"ah, the people-
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All Alone
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells-
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells:
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
THE END
The complete works by Edgar Allan Poe:
http://eserver.org/books/poe/

Going Out
Close the door behind you when you leave
and turn the key.
I shall stay here
in the dark
for a while.
Hãy khép cửa cài then khi anh bỏ mặc
Riêng em ở lại đây
Trong bóng đêm dày dặc
Một lúc này.
Or maybe a little longer.
I''ll put my thoughts
in a small wooden box by the fire
and watch the flames
as they curl over
the three bars.
Hay em nán lại thêm một lát
Gom hết những suy tư
Nhốt vào chiếc hộp gỗ thông để bên lò sưởi
Và ngắm ánh lửa đỏ lừ
Cuộn qua vài thanh sắt
When you come back
I will be waiting.
Nothing will have changed
except for the small pile of ash
in the chair by the window
where you left me.
Và khi anh trở lại
Em sẽ vẫn đợi chờ
Mọi vật đều bất di bất dịch
Trừ một nhúm tro
Trong chiếc ghế ngồi bên khung cửa
Chỗ anh bỏ em lại bơ vơ
Natasha Haigh
Được HBAE787 sửa chữa / chuyển vào 04:14 ngày 12/08/2004

Going Out
Close the door behind you when you leave
and turn the key.
I shall stay here
in the dark
for a while.
Hãy khép cửa cài then khi anh bỏ mặc
Riêng em ở lại đây
Trong bóng đêm dày dặc
Một lúc này.
Or maybe a little longer.
I''ll put my thoughts
in a small wooden box by the fire
and watch the flames
as they curl over
the three bars.
Hay em nán lại thêm một lát
Gom hết những suy tư
Nhốt vào chiếc hộp gỗ thông để bên lò sưởi
Và ngắm ánh lửa đỏ lừ
Cuộn qua vài thanh sắt
When you come back
I will be waiting.
Nothing will have changed
except for the small pile of ash
in the chair by the window
where you left me.
Và khi anh trở lại
Em sẽ vẫn đợi chờ
Mọi vật đều bất di bất dịch
Trừ một nhúm tro
Trong chiếc ghế ngồi bên khung cửa
Chỗ anh bỏ em lại bơ vơ
Natasha Haigh
Được HBAE787 sửa chữa / chuyển vào 04:14 ngày 12/08/2004

I found this translation incredibly amazing that I like to share :
Written in Hán by Đặng Trần Côn
Translated in nôm by Đoàn Thị Điểm
Translated by Huỳnh Sanh Thông
Reviewed by Đàm Trung Pháp
E***ed by Lê Văn Đặng
Chinh phụ ngâm diễn ca
Thuở trời đất nổi cơn gió bụi,
Khách má hồng nhiều nỗi truân chuyên.
Xanh kia thăm thẳm tầng trên,
Vì ai gây dựng cho nên nỗi này ?
When all through earth and heaven dust storms rise,
how hard and rough, the road a woman walks!
O those who rule in yonder blue above,
who is the cause and maker of this woe?
Trống Trường Thành lung lay bóng nguyệt,
Khói Cam Tuyền mờ mịt thức mâỵ
Chín lần gươm báu chống tay,
Nửa đêm truyền hịch định ngày xuất chinh.
In our Great Walls(1) drums beat and moonlight throbs.
On Mount Kan-chuan fires burn and clouds glow red.
The Emperor, leaning on his precious sword,
at midnight calls for war and sets the day.
Nước thanh bình ba trăm năm cũ,
Áo nhung trao quan vũ từ đâỵ
Sứ trời sớm giục đường mây,
Phép công là trọng, niềm tây sá nào.
The realm has known three hundred years of peace
-- now soldiers don their battle dress once more.
At daybreak, heralds speed them through the mists
-- the law outweighs what they may feel inside.
Đường giong ruổi lưng đeo cung tiễn,
Buổi tiễn đưa lòng bận thê noa.
Bóng cờ tiếng trống xa xa,
Sầu lên ngọn ải, oán ra cửa phòng.
Full armed with bows and arrows, they fare forth,
from wives and children wrenching their numb hearts.
As banners wave and drums resound far off,
grief spreads from chamber door to mountain pass.
Chàng tuổi trẻ vốn dòng hào kiệt,
Xếp bút nghiên theo việc đao cung.
Thành liền mong hiến bệ rồng,
Thước gươm đã quyết chẳng dung giặc trờị
Born to a race of heroes, you, my love,
discard your brush and ink for tools of war.
You vow to capture citadels for the throne --
your sword will spare no foe of Heaven''''''''s swaỵ
Chí làm trai dặm nghìn da ngựa,
Gieo Thái Sơn nhẹ nửa hồng mao.
Giã nhà đeo bức chiến bào,
Thét roi cầu Vị, ào ào gió thu.
A man will win a horse skin for his shroud;
his life he''''''''ll drop in battle like goose down.
In war attire, you leave and cross the Wei,
cracking your whip while roars the autumn wind.
Ngoài đầu cầu nước trong như lọc,
Đường bên cầu cỏ mọc còn non.
Đưa chàng lòng dằng dặc buồn,
Bộ khôn bằng ngựa, thủy khôn bằng thuyền.
Beneath the bridge the brook flows crystal-clear.
Along the nearby path thrives grass, still young.
I see you off and sorrow -- Oh, to be
your horse on land, your vessel on the stream!
Nước có chảy mà phiền chẳng rã,
Cỏ có thơm mà dạ chẳng khuâỵ
Dặn rồi dặn lại cầm tay,
Bước đi một bước dây dây lại dừng.
The water flows, yet grief won''''''''t wash awaỵ
The grass smells sweet, yet hearts won''''''''t feel assuaged.
We say goodbye, then we hold hands again --
we try to part, keep halting at each step.
Lòng thiếp tựa bóng trăng theo dõi,
Dạ chàng xa tìm cõi Thiên Sơn (2)
Múa gươm tiễn rượu chưa tàn,
Chỉ ngang ngọn giáo vào ngàn hang beo.
My heart pursues you like the moon on high,
Through space leaps your heart, bound for Thousand Peaks.
The wine once drained, you wave the Lung-chuan sword
and thrust it toward the lair of those wild beasts.
*************************************************************
Notes Sources of the English text "The Song of a Soldier''''''''s Wife":
1) An anthology of Vietnamese poems: From the Eleventh through the
Twentieth Centuries (E***ed and Translated by Huynh Sanh Thong, Yale
University Press, 1996), pp 401-414.
2) The Lạc Việt Series - N0. 3. Council on Southeast Asia Studies,
Yale Center for International and Area Studies, c1986, pp 3-73. The
Vietnamese text is transcribed from the Nôm source published by Tôn
Thất Lương, E***ion Tân Việt, Saigon 1950, pp 145-167. line 5:
There are two versions: Ch''''''''ang-an (Trường An)[ [Huỳnh Sanh
Thông.''''''''s text] and Great Walls (Trường thành) (W. The latter is
adopted by IVS. line 34: CS qThousand Peaks = Thiên Sơn. Nôm ...
original sources: ) Thiên Sơn (in the Western China) or CS q Thiên
Sơn (in the Eastern China) [HST. s text]. line 39: Nôm source has "
- sương = dew". We use a more popular version: "ráng = sunglow"
translated from ""-hà = sunglow". Original text by Đặng Trần
Côn ''''''''''''''''
(Quân xuyên trang phục hồng như hà) = Your coat is red like
sunglow from the clouds. lines 45 ... 47: There are two versions: " ÊŽ
xa = carts " and "quân = troops".
*******************************************************************
Note : Due to the size limitation, I have to cut this article into pieces in order to post it entirely .
Được tdhung sửa chữa / chuyển vào 05:00 ngày 01/09/2004

I found this translation incredibly amazing that I like to share :
Written in Hán by Đặng Trần Côn
Translated in nôm by Đoàn Thị Điểm
Translated by Huỳnh Sanh Thông
Reviewed by Đàm Trung Pháp
E***ed by Lê Văn Đặng
Chinh phụ ngâm diễn ca
Thuở trời đất nổi cơn gió bụi,
Khách má hồng nhiều nỗi truân chuyên.
Xanh kia thăm thẳm tầng trên,
Vì ai gây dựng cho nên nỗi này ?
When all through earth and heaven dust storms rise,
how hard and rough, the road a woman walks!
O those who rule in yonder blue above,
who is the cause and maker of this woe?
Trống Trường Thành lung lay bóng nguyệt,
Khói Cam Tuyền mờ mịt thức mâỵ
Chín lần gươm báu chống tay,
Nửa đêm truyền hịch định ngày xuất chinh.
In our Great Walls(1) drums beat and moonlight throbs.
On Mount Kan-chuan fires burn and clouds glow red.
The Emperor, leaning on his precious sword,
at midnight calls for war and sets the day.
Nước thanh bình ba trăm năm cũ,
Áo nhung trao quan vũ từ đâỵ
Sứ trời sớm giục đường mây,
Phép công là trọng, niềm tây sá nào.
The realm has known three hundred years of peace
-- now soldiers don their battle dress once more.
At daybreak, heralds speed them through the mists
-- the law outweighs what they may feel inside.
Đường giong ruổi lưng đeo cung tiễn,
Buổi tiễn đưa lòng bận thê noa.
Bóng cờ tiếng trống xa xa,
Sầu lên ngọn ải, oán ra cửa phòng.
Full armed with bows and arrows, they fare forth,
from wives and children wrenching their numb hearts.
As banners wave and drums resound far off,
grief spreads from chamber door to mountain pass.
Chàng tuổi trẻ vốn dòng hào kiệt,
Xếp bút nghiên theo việc đao cung.
Thành liền mong hiến bệ rồng,
Thước gươm đã quyết chẳng dung giặc trờị
Born to a race of heroes, you, my love,
discard your brush and ink for tools of war.
You vow to capture citadels for the throne --
your sword will spare no foe of Heaven''''''''s swaỵ
Chí làm trai dặm nghìn da ngựa,
Gieo Thái Sơn nhẹ nửa hồng mao.
Giã nhà đeo bức chiến bào,
Thét roi cầu Vị, ào ào gió thu.
A man will win a horse skin for his shroud;
his life he''''''''ll drop in battle like goose down.
In war attire, you leave and cross the Wei,
cracking your whip while roars the autumn wind.
Ngoài đầu cầu nước trong như lọc,
Đường bên cầu cỏ mọc còn non.
Đưa chàng lòng dằng dặc buồn,
Bộ khôn bằng ngựa, thủy khôn bằng thuyền.
Beneath the bridge the brook flows crystal-clear.
Along the nearby path thrives grass, still young.
I see you off and sorrow -- Oh, to be
your horse on land, your vessel on the stream!
Nước có chảy mà phiền chẳng rã,
Cỏ có thơm mà dạ chẳng khuâỵ
Dặn rồi dặn lại cầm tay,
Bước đi một bước dây dây lại dừng.
The water flows, yet grief won''''''''t wash awaỵ
The grass smells sweet, yet hearts won''''''''t feel assuaged.
We say goodbye, then we hold hands again --
we try to part, keep halting at each step.
Lòng thiếp tựa bóng trăng theo dõi,
Dạ chàng xa tìm cõi Thiên Sơn (2)
Múa gươm tiễn rượu chưa tàn,
Chỉ ngang ngọn giáo vào ngàn hang beo.
My heart pursues you like the moon on high,
Through space leaps your heart, bound for Thousand Peaks.
The wine once drained, you wave the Lung-chuan sword
and thrust it toward the lair of those wild beasts.
*************************************************************
Notes Sources of the English text "The Song of a Soldier''''''''s Wife":
1) An anthology of Vietnamese poems: From the Eleventh through the
Twentieth Centuries (E***ed and Translated by Huynh Sanh Thong, Yale
University Press, 1996), pp 401-414.
2) The Lạc Việt Series - N0. 3. Council on Southeast Asia Studies,
Yale Center for International and Area Studies, c1986, pp 3-73. The
Vietnamese text is transcribed from the Nôm source published by Tôn
Thất Lương, E***ion Tân Việt, Saigon 1950, pp 145-167. line 5:
There are two versions: Ch''''''''ang-an (Trường An)[ [Huỳnh Sanh
Thông.''''''''s text] and Great Walls (Trường thành) (W. The latter is
adopted by IVS. line 34: CS qThousand Peaks = Thiên Sơn. Nôm ...
original sources: ) Thiên Sơn (in the Western China) or CS q Thiên
Sơn (in the Eastern China) [HST. s text]. line 39: Nôm source has "
- sương = dew". We use a more popular version: "ráng = sunglow"
translated from ""-hà = sunglow". Original text by Đặng Trần
Côn ''''''''''''''''
(Quân xuyên trang phục hồng như hà) = Your coat is red like
sunglow from the clouds. lines 45 ... 47: There are two versions: " ÊŽ
xa = carts " and "quân = troops".
*******************************************************************
Note : Due to the size limitation, I have to cut this article into pieces in order to post it entirely .
Được tdhung sửa chữa / chuyển vào 05:00 ngày 01/09/2004

Part 2 :
Nước có chảy mà phiền chẳng rã,
Cỏ có thơm mà dạ chẳng khuâỵ
Dặn rồi dặn lại cầm tay,
Bước đi một bước dây dây lại dừng.
The water flows, yet grief won''t wash awaỵ
The grass smells sweet, yet hearts won''t feel assuaged.
We say goodbye, then we hold hands again --
we try to part, keep halting at each step.
Lòng thiếp tựa bóng trăng theo dõi,
Dạ chàng xa tìm cõi Thiên Sơn (2)
Múa gươm tiễn rượu chưa tàn,
Chỉ ngang ngọn giáo vào ngàn hang beo.
My heart pursues you like the moon on high,
Through space leaps your heart, bound for Thousand Peaks.
The wine once drained, you wave the Lung-chuan sword
and thrust it toward the lair of those wild beasts.
Săn Lâu Lan, rằng theo Giới Tử,
Tới Man Khê, bàn sự Phục Bạ
Áo chàng đỏ tựa ráng (3) pha,
Ngựa chàng sắc trắng như là tuyết in.
You''ll tread in Chieh-tzús steps and seize Lou-lan.
You''ll reach Man-hsi, discussing old Fu-po.
Your coat is red like sunglow from the clouds;
your horse is white as if all cloaked in snow.
Tiếng nhạc ngựa lần chen tiếng trống,
Giáp mặt rồi phút bỗng chia taỵ
Hà lương chia rẽ đường này,
Bên đường, trông bóng cờ bay ngùi ngùị
A jumbled din of drums and horses'' bells --
we huđle face to face then have to part.
Here at this bridge wéll go our separate ways --
forlorn beside the road, I watch flags flỵ
Quân trước đã gần ngoài doanh Liễu,
Kỵ sau còn khuất nẻo Tràng Dương.
Quân đưa chàng ruổi lên đường,
Liễu dương biết thiếp đoạn trường này chăng ?
Carts (3) form the van, approaching Willow Camp.
Horsemen bring up the rear at Poplar Field.
In haste, the troops escort you on your way --
do willows and poplars know I ache insidẻ
Tiếng địch thổi nghe chừng đồng vọng,
Hàng cờ bay trong bóng phất phợ
Dấu chàng theo lớp mây đưa,
Thiếp nhìn rặng núi ngẩn ngơ nỗi nhà.
Flutes pipe and send faint echoes from afar.
Flags file and stir vague shadows to and frọ
Your tracks pursue the trail of clouds on clouds --
I watch the mountain chain and mourn our homẹ
Chàng thì đi cõi xa mưa gió,
Thiếp thì về buồng cũ gối chăn.
55. Đoái trông theo đã cách ngăn,
Tuôn màu mây biếc, trải ngần núi xanh.
Your way leads you to lands of rain and wind --
mine takes me back to our old room, our bed.
We turn and look, but all has come between --
green mountains and blue clouds roll on and on.
Chốn Hàm Dương chàng còn ngoảnh lại,
Bến Tiêu Tương thiếp hãy trông sang.
Khói Tiêu Tương cách Hàm Dương,
60. Cây Hàm Dương cách Tiêu Tương mấy trùng.
You in Han-yang still turn your head and gazẹ
Here at Hsiao-hsiang I still stare after yoụ
Between, the Hsiao-hsiang mists shut off Han-yang.
Between, the Han-yang trees shut off Hsiao-hsiang.
Cùng trông lại mà cùng chẳng thấy,
Thấy xanh xanh những mấy ngàn dâụ
Ngàn dâu xanh ngắt một màu,
Lòng chàng ý thiếp ai sầu hơn ai ?
We look to find each other but cannot --
we only see those green mulberry groves.
Mulberry groves all share one shade of green --
of your own grief and mine, which hurts the more ?
Chàng từ đi vào nơi gió cát,
Đêm trăng này nghỉ mát phương nao ?
Xưa nay chiến địa dường bao,
Nội không muôn dặm xiết bao dãi dầụ
Since you left for the realm of wind and sand,
where are you resting on this moonlit night?
Of old and now, such as all battle grounds,
those endless wastes the elements assault..
Hơi gió lạnh, người rầu mặt dạn,
Dòng nước sâu, ngựa nản chân bon.
Ôm yên gối trống đã chồn,
Nằm vùng cát trắng, ngủ cồn rêu xanh.
Men''s faces shrivel under raw wind blasts,
and horses'' knees will buckle fording streams.
For pillows all hug saddles or clasp drums--
they lie asleep on white sand or green moss.
Nay Hán xuống Bạch Thành đóng lại,
Mai Hồ vào Thanh Hải dòm qua.
Hình khe, thế núi gần xa,
Dứt thôi lại nối, thấp đà lại cao.
Today Han troops pitch camp inside Pai-teng,
tomorrow Huns will watch from their Blue Sea.
A scene of streams and mountains, near and far --
they roll on and break off, they rise and fall.
Sương đầu núi buổi chiều như giội,
Nước lòng khe nẻo lội còn sâu.
Xót người áo giáp bấy lâu,
Lòng quê qua đó mặt sầu chẳng khuâỵ
From mountain peaks, dew falls, like rain at dusk,
And down in streams the fords still lie waistđeep.
Pity those whóve long worn their coats of mail --
their homesick faces bear a world of gloom.
Trên trướng gấm thấu hay chăng nhẽ,
Trạng chinh phu ai vẽ cho nên ?
Tưởng chàng giong ruổi mấy niên,
Chẳng nơi Hãn Hải thì miền Tiêu Quan.
Inside brocaded curtains, does He know?
A soldier''s portrait who could paint for Him?
I think of you whóve wandered all these years,
from the Vast Desert to the Lonesome Pass.
Đã trắc trở đòi ngàn xà hổ,
Lại lạnh lùng những chỗ sương phong.
Lên cao trông thức mây ***g,
Lòng nào là chẳng động lòng bi thương !
Yoúve braved the wilds where snakes and tigers lurk;
yoúve shivered, dwelling with chill dew and wind.
I climb up high and watch the pall of clouds --
whose heart can stay unstirred by longing pangs?
Chàng từ sang Đông Nam khơi nẻo,
Biết nay chàng tiến thảo nơi đâu ?
Những người chinh chiến bấy lâu,
Nhẹ xem tính mệnh như màu cỏ câỵ
You left and traveled toward the far Southeast --
who knows where you are fighting at this hour?
All those who for so long have gone to war
have learned to treat their lives like leaves of grass.
Nức hơi ấm, ơn dày từ trước,
Trải chốn nghèo, tuổi được bao nhiêu ?
Non Kỳ quạnh quẽ trăng treo,
Bến Phì gió thổi hiu hiu mấy gò.
With valiant spirit theỵ''ll pay off great debts --
how many, courting peril, will die old?
The moon shines, dangling over hushed Mount Ch''ị
Wind blows on lonesome tombs along the Feị
Hồn tử sĩ gió ù ù thổi,
Mặt chinh phu trăng dõi dõi soị
Chinh phu tử sĩ mấy người,
Nào ai mạc mặt, nào ai gọi hồn.
Winds howl and howl at ghosts of those war''s killed --
on soldiers'' faces shines the stalking moon.
O men, alive or dead, has anyone
portrayed your faces or invoked your souls?
Dấu binh lửa, nước non như cũ,
Kẻ hành nhân qua đó chạnh thương.
Phận trai già ruổi chiến trường,
Chàng Siêu tóc đã điểm sương mới về.
The brand of war has marked old streams and hills --
a traveler, passing by, feels sore of heart.
A man must spend his prime on battlegrounds:
his hair all streaked with frost, Pan Ch''ao came homẹ
Tưởng chàng trải nhiều bề nắng nỏ,
Ba thước gươm, một cỗ nhung yên.
Xông pha gió bãi trăng ngàn,
Tên reo đầu ngựa, giáo lan mặt thành.
I think of you as you bear pains and hurts --
armed with a sword, a saddle, you rush past
the windswept shores, the moonlit woods, as arrows whiz
past horses'' heads and spears attack the walls.
Hội công danh trăm đường nhục nhã,
Những nhọc nhằn nào đã nghỉ ngơị
Nỗi lòng biết ngỏ cùng ai,
Thiếp trong cánh cửa, chàng ngoài chân mâỵ
A hundred dangers strew the path of fame --
you toil and struggle, never taking rest.
To whom can you confide what moves your heart?
Ím here at home, yoúre there at heaven''s edgẹ
Trong cửa này đã đành phận thiếp,
Ngoài mây kia há kiếp chàng vay ?
Những mong cá nước vui vầy,
Ai ngờ đôi ngả nước mây cách vờị
Inside this door, I live my fated life --
but were you born to roam at heaven''s edgẻ
We hoped to join like fish and water once:
instead, wére split apart -- a stream, a cloud.

Part 2 :
Nước có chảy mà phiền chẳng rã,
Cỏ có thơm mà dạ chẳng khuâỵ
Dặn rồi dặn lại cầm tay,
Bước đi một bước dây dây lại dừng.
The water flows, yet grief won''t wash awaỵ
The grass smells sweet, yet hearts won''t feel assuaged.
We say goodbye, then we hold hands again --
we try to part, keep halting at each step.
Lòng thiếp tựa bóng trăng theo dõi,
Dạ chàng xa tìm cõi Thiên Sơn (2)
Múa gươm tiễn rượu chưa tàn,
Chỉ ngang ngọn giáo vào ngàn hang beo.
My heart pursues you like the moon on high,
Through space leaps your heart, bound for Thousand Peaks.
The wine once drained, you wave the Lung-chuan sword
and thrust it toward the lair of those wild beasts.
Săn Lâu Lan, rằng theo Giới Tử,
Tới Man Khê, bàn sự Phục Bạ
Áo chàng đỏ tựa ráng (3) pha,
Ngựa chàng sắc trắng như là tuyết in.
You''ll tread in Chieh-tzús steps and seize Lou-lan.
You''ll reach Man-hsi, discussing old Fu-po.
Your coat is red like sunglow from the clouds;
your horse is white as if all cloaked in snow.
Tiếng nhạc ngựa lần chen tiếng trống,
Giáp mặt rồi phút bỗng chia taỵ
Hà lương chia rẽ đường này,
Bên đường, trông bóng cờ bay ngùi ngùị
A jumbled din of drums and horses'' bells --
we huđle face to face then have to part.
Here at this bridge wéll go our separate ways --
forlorn beside the road, I watch flags flỵ
Quân trước đã gần ngoài doanh Liễu,
Kỵ sau còn khuất nẻo Tràng Dương.
Quân đưa chàng ruổi lên đường,
Liễu dương biết thiếp đoạn trường này chăng ?
Carts (3) form the van, approaching Willow Camp.
Horsemen bring up the rear at Poplar Field.
In haste, the troops escort you on your way --
do willows and poplars know I ache insidẻ
Tiếng địch thổi nghe chừng đồng vọng,
Hàng cờ bay trong bóng phất phợ
Dấu chàng theo lớp mây đưa,
Thiếp nhìn rặng núi ngẩn ngơ nỗi nhà.
Flutes pipe and send faint echoes from afar.
Flags file and stir vague shadows to and frọ
Your tracks pursue the trail of clouds on clouds --
I watch the mountain chain and mourn our homẹ
Chàng thì đi cõi xa mưa gió,
Thiếp thì về buồng cũ gối chăn.
55. Đoái trông theo đã cách ngăn,
Tuôn màu mây biếc, trải ngần núi xanh.
Your way leads you to lands of rain and wind --
mine takes me back to our old room, our bed.
We turn and look, but all has come between --
green mountains and blue clouds roll on and on.
Chốn Hàm Dương chàng còn ngoảnh lại,
Bến Tiêu Tương thiếp hãy trông sang.
Khói Tiêu Tương cách Hàm Dương,
60. Cây Hàm Dương cách Tiêu Tương mấy trùng.
You in Han-yang still turn your head and gazẹ
Here at Hsiao-hsiang I still stare after yoụ
Between, the Hsiao-hsiang mists shut off Han-yang.
Between, the Han-yang trees shut off Hsiao-hsiang.
Cùng trông lại mà cùng chẳng thấy,
Thấy xanh xanh những mấy ngàn dâụ
Ngàn dâu xanh ngắt một màu,
Lòng chàng ý thiếp ai sầu hơn ai ?
We look to find each other but cannot --
we only see those green mulberry groves.
Mulberry groves all share one shade of green --
of your own grief and mine, which hurts the more ?
Chàng từ đi vào nơi gió cát,
Đêm trăng này nghỉ mát phương nao ?
Xưa nay chiến địa dường bao,
Nội không muôn dặm xiết bao dãi dầụ
Since you left for the realm of wind and sand,
where are you resting on this moonlit night?
Of old and now, such as all battle grounds,
those endless wastes the elements assault..
Hơi gió lạnh, người rầu mặt dạn,
Dòng nước sâu, ngựa nản chân bon.
Ôm yên gối trống đã chồn,
Nằm vùng cát trắng, ngủ cồn rêu xanh.
Men''s faces shrivel under raw wind blasts,
and horses'' knees will buckle fording streams.
For pillows all hug saddles or clasp drums--
they lie asleep on white sand or green moss.
Nay Hán xuống Bạch Thành đóng lại,
Mai Hồ vào Thanh Hải dòm qua.
Hình khe, thế núi gần xa,
Dứt thôi lại nối, thấp đà lại cao.
Today Han troops pitch camp inside Pai-teng,
tomorrow Huns will watch from their Blue Sea.
A scene of streams and mountains, near and far --
they roll on and break off, they rise and fall.
Sương đầu núi buổi chiều như giội,
Nước lòng khe nẻo lội còn sâu.
Xót người áo giáp bấy lâu,
Lòng quê qua đó mặt sầu chẳng khuâỵ
From mountain peaks, dew falls, like rain at dusk,
And down in streams the fords still lie waistđeep.
Pity those whóve long worn their coats of mail --
their homesick faces bear a world of gloom.
Trên trướng gấm thấu hay chăng nhẽ,
Trạng chinh phu ai vẽ cho nên ?
Tưởng chàng giong ruổi mấy niên,
Chẳng nơi Hãn Hải thì miền Tiêu Quan.
Inside brocaded curtains, does He know?
A soldier''s portrait who could paint for Him?
I think of you whóve wandered all these years,
from the Vast Desert to the Lonesome Pass.
Đã trắc trở đòi ngàn xà hổ,
Lại lạnh lùng những chỗ sương phong.
Lên cao trông thức mây ***g,
Lòng nào là chẳng động lòng bi thương !
Yoúve braved the wilds where snakes and tigers lurk;
yoúve shivered, dwelling with chill dew and wind.
I climb up high and watch the pall of clouds --
whose heart can stay unstirred by longing pangs?
Chàng từ sang Đông Nam khơi nẻo,
Biết nay chàng tiến thảo nơi đâu ?
Những người chinh chiến bấy lâu,
Nhẹ xem tính mệnh như màu cỏ câỵ
You left and traveled toward the far Southeast --
who knows where you are fighting at this hour?
All those who for so long have gone to war
have learned to treat their lives like leaves of grass.
Nức hơi ấm, ơn dày từ trước,
Trải chốn nghèo, tuổi được bao nhiêu ?
Non Kỳ quạnh quẽ trăng treo,
Bến Phì gió thổi hiu hiu mấy gò.
With valiant spirit theỵ''ll pay off great debts --
how many, courting peril, will die old?
The moon shines, dangling over hushed Mount Ch''ị
Wind blows on lonesome tombs along the Feị
Hồn tử sĩ gió ù ù thổi,
Mặt chinh phu trăng dõi dõi soị
Chinh phu tử sĩ mấy người,
Nào ai mạc mặt, nào ai gọi hồn.
Winds howl and howl at ghosts of those war''s killed --
on soldiers'' faces shines the stalking moon.
O men, alive or dead, has anyone
portrayed your faces or invoked your souls?
Dấu binh lửa, nước non như cũ,
Kẻ hành nhân qua đó chạnh thương.
Phận trai già ruổi chiến trường,
Chàng Siêu tóc đã điểm sương mới về.
The brand of war has marked old streams and hills --
a traveler, passing by, feels sore of heart.
A man must spend his prime on battlegrounds:
his hair all streaked with frost, Pan Ch''ao came homẹ
Tưởng chàng trải nhiều bề nắng nỏ,
Ba thước gươm, một cỗ nhung yên.
Xông pha gió bãi trăng ngàn,
Tên reo đầu ngựa, giáo lan mặt thành.
I think of you as you bear pains and hurts --
armed with a sword, a saddle, you rush past
the windswept shores, the moonlit woods, as arrows whiz
past horses'' heads and spears attack the walls.
Hội công danh trăm đường nhục nhã,
Những nhọc nhằn nào đã nghỉ ngơị
Nỗi lòng biết ngỏ cùng ai,
Thiếp trong cánh cửa, chàng ngoài chân mâỵ
A hundred dangers strew the path of fame --
you toil and struggle, never taking rest.
To whom can you confide what moves your heart?
Ím here at home, yoúre there at heaven''s edgẹ
Trong cửa này đã đành phận thiếp,
Ngoài mây kia há kiếp chàng vay ?
Những mong cá nước vui vầy,
Ai ngờ đôi ngả nước mây cách vờị
Inside this door, I live my fated life --
but were you born to roam at heaven''s edgẻ
We hoped to join like fish and water once:
instead, wére split apart -- a stream, a cloud.

Part 3 - Song of a soldier''s wife :
Thiếp chẳng tưởng ra người chinh phụ,
Chàng há từng học lũ vương tôn.
Cớ sao cách trở nước non,
Khiến người thôi sớm thời hôm những sầụ
I never thought Íd be a soldier''s wife,
you never aped rich playboys touring far.
why are those streams and hills dividing us
and causing us to sorrow day and night?
Tưởng phong lưu đương chừng niên thiếu,
Sánh nhau cùng dan díu chữ duyên.
Nỡ nào đôi lứa thiếu niên,
Quan sơn để cách, hàn huyên sao đành.
Endowed with grace and charm in youthful bloom,
we formed a couple bound by ties of lovẹ
Who has the heart to break young lovers up
and build a mountain wall between the two ?
Thuở lâm hành oanh chưa mến liễu,
Hỏi ngày về, ước nẻo quyên cạ
Nay quyên đã giục, oanh già,
Ý nhi lại gáy trước nhà líu lọ
No orioles yet on willows - you set out
and promised yoúd come back when cuckoos sang.
Cuckoos have followed orioles grown old --
before the house some swallows chirp and peep.
Thuở đăng đồ, mai chưa quen gió,
Hỏi ngày về, chỉ độ đào bông.
Nay đào đã quyến gió Đông,
Phù dung lại nở bên sông bơ sờ.
Plum trees were winđshy still when you went forth
and promised yoúd come back as peaches bloomed.
Peach blossoms now have fled with their east wind -
Beside the river, roses fall to shreds.
Hẹn cùng ta: Lũng Tây núi ấy,
Sớm thường trông, nào thấy hơi tăm ?
Ngập ngừng, lá rụng cành trâm,
Hoang thôn nghe tiếng ngọ cầm lao xaọ
You told me once yoụ d meet me in Lung-hsi --
from dawn I looked for you but saw no tracẹ
I choked back tears as leaves fell on my hair --
at noon the village woke to birds'' shrill cries.
Hẹn cùng ta Hán Dương cầu nọ,
Sớm lại tìm, nào có tiêu hao ?
Ngập ngừng gió thổi lá bào,
Bãi hôm tuôn chảy nước trào mênh mông.
You pledged to meet me by the Han-yang Bridge --
till nightfall I awaited you in vain.
I choked back tears as winds lashed at my gown --
the evening tide was surging on the shorẹ
Tin thường lại, người không thấy lại,
Gốc hoa tàn đã trải rêu xanh.
Rêu xanh mấy lớp chung quanh,
Lần đi một bước, trăm tình ngẩn ngợ.
Íve sent you word but haven''t seen you back --
the poplar''s catkins, wilted, strew green moss.
Green moss in many patches spreads around --
I pace the courtyard, turmoil in my heart.
Thư thường lại, người không thấy lại,
Bức rèm thưa lần dãi bóng dương.
Bóng dương mấy buổi xuyên ngang,
Lời sao mười hẹn, chín thường đơn saị
Your letters have come home, but yoúre not home --
the sun sends tilted beams through my thin blinds.
The sun keeps shining through day after day --
why have you failed nine pledges out of ten?
Thử tính lại diễn khơi ngày ấy,
Tàn sen này đã nẩy là bạ
Xót người lần lữa ải xa,
Xót người nương chốn Hoàng Hoa dặm dàị
Let''s reckon -- ever since you went away,
the lotus leaves like coins have thrice peeped forth.
Pity those who must man such distant posts,
with shelter far from home, near Mount Huang-huạ
Tình gia thất nào ai chẳng có,
Kìa từ thân, khuê phụ nhớ thương.
Tóc già phơ phất mái sương,
Con thơ măng sữa, vả đương bù trì.
Who has no kin or family to love ?
All long for, miss old parents or young wives.
Your mother''s hair is covered now with frost --
Your son whós still at suck needs tender carẹ
Lòng lão thân buồn khi tựa cửa,
Miệng hài nhi chờ bữa mớm cơm.
Ngọt bùi thiếp đã hiếu nam,
Khuyến con đèn sách thiếp làm phụ thân.
Your mother waits, heart-weary, at the door.
Your child in hunger cries for its chewed ricẹ
I feed your mother, serving as her son,
and like a father teach your child to read.
Một mình thiếp cung thân khoá tử,
Nỗi quan hoài ngang ngửa biết bao !
Nhớ chàng trải mấy sương sao,
Xuân từng đổi mới, Đông nào còn dư .
Alone, I feed the old and teach the young --
I bear all burdens, yearning for my man.
I long for you while stars will whirl away
as spring''s passed by and winter''s drawing near.
Kể năm đã tư ba năm chẵn
Mối sầu trăm nghìn vạn ngổn ngang.
Ước gì gần gũi tấc gang,
Giở niềm cay đắng để chàng tỏ haỵ
Let''s count those years of parting - three or four.
My heart has grown a thousand more snarled threads.
If only I could nestle by your side,
revealing all the bitterness Íve felt!
Thoa cung Hán thuở ngày xuất giá,
Gương lầu Tần dấu đã soi chung.
Cậy ai mà gửi tới cùng,
Ngỏ chàng thấu hết tấm lòng tương tư .
This hairpin from the Han, your wedding gift,
and that Chin looking glass we two looked in --
by whom could I transmit both there to you
and let you know how much I''m missing you ?
Nhẫn đeo tay mọi khi ngắm nghía,
Ngọc cài đầu thuở bé vui chơị
Cậy ai mà gửi tới nơi,
Để chàng trân trọng dấu người tương thân.
The ring my finger wears I''ve so admired,
the emerald comb I toyed with as a child --
by whom could I dispatch both there to you
as tender keepsakes from the one you love?
Trải mấy xuân, tin đi tin lại,
Tới xuân này tin hãy vắng không.
Thấy nhạn, luống tưởng thư phong,
Nghe sương, luống sắm áo bông sẵn sàng.
For many springs news traveled back and forth --
this spring''s devoid of any sign from yoụ
In vain I''ve hoped for letters, seeing geese --
in vain I''ve made a quilt at the first frost.
Gió Tây nổi không đường hồng tiện,
Xót cõi ngoài tuyết quyến mưa sa.
Màn mưa trướng tuyết xông pha,
Nghĩ thêm lạnh lẽo kẻ ra cõi ngoàị
The western thwarts the path of geese in flight.
Alas, out there you''re drenched by snow and rain.
You live with rain as screen, with snow as tent --
I think of you and feel your cold out therẹ