In memory of poet Tran Dza Lu

Tran Doan Nho/Vietnamese | KENNEDALE, Texas (NV) |
Poet Tran Dza Lu has passed away! He died on January 25 in Vietnam, at the age of 75.

According to writer Nguyen Le Uyen: “For the past two years, Tran Dza Lu has gone to Xuyen Moc to stay with his daughter and her husband, who is his only child. More than a week ago, he complained of fatigue and difficulty breathing. His daughter took him to Ba Ria hospital, the doctor examined him, gave him painkillers and then went home. The next day, he complained again of pain and difficulty breathing. I took him to the hospital to wake up and the fluid in his abdomen burst and overflowed. He had to give up, so he passed away! Right at the beginning, if the diagnosis is good and the hospital intervenes immediately with surgery, it’s not that bad.” Europe is also the number.

Tran Dza Lu and I have known each other since we were in school. We are both from Hue, although we have a slight age difference, different education and profession, but we both love poetry, so we are quite close. This relationship was mentioned by Tran Dza Lu in his memoir “Unforgettable memories with writer Tran Doan Nho.” The following is an excerpt:

“Since the 60s (…), because we were artistic people and wrote articles in literary magazines in Saigon, we easily got to know each other. During those years, in Hue, we often gathered at writer Le Ba Lang’s house in Vy Da to gather and passionately discuss literary matters. There are also Wei Ngu, Viem Tinh, Ho Minh Dung… We passionately read Nietzsche, Kant, Hegel, Shakespeare, Jean-Paul-Sartre, Dostoevsky, Camus, Confucius, Lao Tzu, Ly Bach, Do Phu, Tue Sy… During these years, the war became more and more fierce – although they did not like war – each person had their own way to stay or leave to follow the fate of the country. Then I had to be far away from friends who had shared all the joys and sorrows of life in Hue. (…) In 1976, when I returned to Hue to work as a farmer, Tran Doan Nho went to a re-education camp. Le Ba Lang went to Binh Dien new economy. And many other friends have lost their wings and fluttered in all four directions… I know that only Viem Tinh is the last close friend of Tran Doan Nho in his homeland. As for me, I was in dire straits in my father’s and mother’s hometown for more than a year and then I “ran” while carrying my wife and children back to the South. Such is the situation of the ‘losing side’. But friendship never changes. After the renovation, Tran Doan Nho also drifted back to the good land of Saigon in the 80s. He found me at Tran Huu Trang market, near train station No. 6, Phu Nhuan. It’s so touching because I became a marketer and he didn’t forget. It is at this moment that we know who is our friend and who is our friend. We were in tears and that time we drank a few glasses of wine together right in front of my husband and I’s vegetable stall. My wife was very surprised to have such sincere Hue friends.”

Every time the name Tran Dza Lu is mentioned, I immediately remember the title of one of his poems: “Second Poem for a Lover in the Lost Country” published in Van, somewhere around 1967 or 1968. That is not a poem. First, it’s not his best poem, but the phrase “sad lover of the land” sounds strange and interesting. “Old country” is the same as the old country, but it sounds sad; Besides, there is still a “sad lover” who is sad.

“O sad, red-eyed brother
A long white shirt in the golden sunlight
You know, I miss you this afternoon
The body is lost in the land of the people, the soul aches in the homeland.”

Reading him, we will see how profound that “love of the homeland” is. The old country (Hue) is a place that contains things that even if you return, you still cannot find them again: your younger sister, your old mother, “chewing popcorn and reading Kim Dung stories,” youth, you wear pigtails. pink, a certain Lady… Images like that often appear in his poems. Listen to Lu lament:

“Now the phoenix flowers bloom
Tearful afternoon in the inner city
I come back to bask in my memories
Along the road of green memories

Walking around alone
Looking for old scents
When the phoenix blooms, the lotus also blooms
Why don’t you love me?

…Where can I find you?
The Lady of the past?
One time someone tilted his hat
Shocked, young soul!”
(Summer Returns to the Citadel)

That’s it! While “at the age of fifteen”, his soul was still “like a new shirt”, looking at “your hair flying in strands” and dreaming, Tran Dza Lu had to leave everything behind to join the army. Where to go? Go to:

“The troops on both sides collapsed between heaven and earth
Clouds cried prematurely because of sadness and chaos
The trees and grass are shaking in the cold wind…”
(Mai Loc Afternoon)

Everything seemed like a life turned upside down:

“Four or five negligent guys
Clothes are tattered
Eating next to a corpse
Picking hand, gun hand
After eating, scoop water from the field
Drink generously to get through the day”
(Meal on the Battlefield)

This realistic poem was written in 1972 – when the army officer of the Republic of Vietnam Tran Dza Lu was on the battlefield – included in the collection “Southern Poetry During Wartime” collected by Thu An Quan of Tran Hoai Thu and released overseas.

In Asia video book number 58, titled “Love Songs From the Battlefield” (made in March, 2008, in Long Beach, California), this poem was chosen by musician Nam Loc, the host of the Asia music program. read to express the hardships of the soldiers of the Republic of Vietnam and praise their contributions to the country but were forgotten because they were losers. More than anyone else, soldiers are the ones who most eagerly look forward to the end of the war. To have a future to dream of.

“At the end of the day, people return to visit their hometown
The grasslands welcome the ancient pink horses’ hooves.
…Tears of joy and happy hands beckoning
The red fire rekindles the wildness
…Someone revived her brilliant past
Drying your hair on a spring afternoon next to a hedge of yellow flowers
…Let us light our love and praise the Lady
Which kiss smells like porcelain and lotus?
The road to the inner city in spring is covered with mats”

A dream of peace and happiness!

Unfortunately, when there was peace and the “sorrow of war” was escaped, people of the old regime like you and me – as well as millions and millions of other Southerners – fell into the “sorrow of peace.” As the losing side, we became citizens… without rank. After being released from prison, there is no longer any chance in the new society. The only way for those who have lost the battle is to give their best and strive to make a living.

Above, Tran Dza Lu mentioned the time they met in the mid-1980s at Tran Huu Trang market, Phu Nhuan, Saigon, where his family rented a house. Also accompanying me was Ho Minh Dung. Every day, the couple goes to the market to sell vegetables. She sells, he helps. The woman who was once a “Saigon girl” is now sitting among the vegetables, among the mustard greens, among the fishy smell, among the flies, among the ants, among the puffy eyes, among the acrid piles, among the oats. pull, grab. There is no poetry there, only life.

And life is anonymous. Over cups of wine, we anonymous people find in each other a little bit of old, timeless love. It’s not enough to erase the hardships of making a living, and it’s even more sad for the plight of the people who went through the upheaval. But nonetheless, there is a bit of human warmth. Even if it’s just a moment. And he still writes poetry, even though he can’t publish it anywhere.

The attic and the small market enter his poetry:

“Hey mezzanine, it’s been more than half my life
I just found you in the middle of the vanity
Life tests us like fire tests gold
Bitterness surrounds the old soul
…Sorry, Saigon girl
Because of me, I was away from the lecture hall and library
Far from the time of dreaming and wandering
To turn into an ancient statue in the midst of hell
Because of clothes and rice, I went to the market
A sad soul among green vegetables
Every day swearing in the mouth of a cunning person
But I’m speechless because I’m not used to it.”
(Spring Chats with Mezzanine)

This poem has two strange words: wow. To be uncertain is to be unstable, wobbly, and uncertain.

Another song, “In the Market,” sounds even more bitter:

“Ten years in the market without a soulmate
I stand curled up in sadness
…In a crowded market, my soul feels cold
Burning cigarettes all the time and not being able to warm up in the afternoon?
…I sell vegetables all day and I’m exhausted
At night I still sit and read books of saints and sages
Trying to forget food and clothes – The circle of fame and fortune
Why does life bother to push me in the back?

Oh, “the sorrow of war” and “the sorrow of peace!” It was a time when Southern society went through a terrible turmoil, Southerners writhed and struggled to transition from one form of life to another. Change guise. Change your life. It must be said overturned life!

Later, Tran Dza Lu had the opportunity to return to the literary world. He released several books of poetry. He wrote many different types of poems: five words, six words, seven words, eight words, six words. Full rhyme and correction.

-“Forgive me, I’ve been lonely for ten years
Still love the scent of grapefruit in my soul
Dear hometown, the cold season has passed on your hair
I still dream of moonlit nights!”
(To the Purple Shirt Man)

-“Sitting here, loving the sound of the zither
My ten-fingered hand moves around sadness
Where is the amount of life lost?
Only the nostalgia of our return to Suzhou remains…”
(At Dien Vy Coffee Shop)

Simple lyrics. Smells light and smooth. The rhythm is slow. Several decades have passed with many hardships and bitterness, but he still maintains his own way of “practicing poetry”, without being fussy or breaking with this or that technique. In particular, eight-word songs such as “Letter to Those Who Stay Behind,” “Waving Away to the Forest of Youth,” “Sending to People Far Away,” “Why Don’t You Say,” which are long or quite long, are complete and The poem is very passionate with many diverse images and similes. To me, the “poetry of Tran Dza Lu” often radiates in eight-word poems like this. The poem’s breath is calm, the poem’s rhythm is endless, and the words hold each other together, creating many emotions.

Please enjoy some excerpts from the above poems:

-“Why don’t you say it when life is red?
One is still in each other’s eyes
Now people leave in eight directions
For those who go home to feel sorry for themselves on the rainy riverbank”
(Why Don’t You Say)

-“That’s where my hair flew
Let me secretly love the clouds of the sky
Love is so foolish that it doesn’t dare to say anything
Heaven’s soul has not yet been tied, only pain and suffering”
(The Day of Waving Goodbye to the Dream Forest of Childhood)

-“Then, when we were far away, the moon disappeared
My path to a strange stream crosses my soul
The branch of the tree of life no longer bears fruit
Let the smoke fall down on the bat’s wings.”
(To People Far Away)

His heartfelt poems brought me back to the days of my hometown, a very ordinary, very sweet, very rich hometown. And extremely simple, something I cannot find now in my new life in a foreign land.

Please light a stick of incense and send him off to his “old country!” (qd)

Note:

Unforgettable Memories…:

văn học & nghệ thuật (vanchuongviet.org)

Tran Dza Lu, real name Tran Van Duan, born February 1949, in Ngoc Anh village, Phu Vang district, Thua Thien Hue province, was a former army officer of the Republic of Vietnam.

Khoi wrote in 1960. When he was still a student, he had poems published in a number of Saigon literary magazines such as Van, Van Hoc, Y Thuc, Thoi Tap…

Published: “Singing for a Walk in the Sky” (Tre publishing house, 1995), “Call Love by the River” (Tre publishing house, 1997), “Love Poetry on a Cigarette Pack” (Writers Association publishing house, 2014)…

In addition, his poems also appear in poetry anthologies by many authors, such as: “January Saigon,” “I Love You Poems,” “New Faces of Poetry,” “Love Poems of Hue.”