Who left her in this cruel world?
Next day's death - who will keep count?
Sky's overcast, souring moods
One soul left, another stunned
Fallen flowers, broken hearts
A hundred years, lost dismally
Searching for a place I've lost
Waiting on an old signal
Meeting her still hurts like hell
Bleeding red how could you tell?
Underneath a somber veil
No one tells her tragic tale.
Is it tears or is it rain?
All our promises' in vain
Through those years my heart still aches
For the one I cannot save
Roads once passed, never come back
Don't look back when you do stop
Don't blame fate, nor blame your cracks
Lovers lost in the song of harps.
Fleeting feels, there's just one chance,
Hearts will meet, there'll be romance
Lines of love penned on a branch
Old, spilled wine comes hand in hand
Lights are dark, the tea didn't seep
Hats are off, my grief is deep
My beloved corpse still weeps
How will I escape this grief?
Your smile was like sunbeam rays,
Now frozen eternally,
Sending you my own with love,
Wishing you a lovely day.
Meeting her still hurts like hell
Bleeding red how could you tell?
Underneath your lovely smile,
No one sees your broken shine.
Is it hurt or is it grief?
Healing love's never been brief.
In the skies where stars don't sleep,
You were there to see me weep.
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a translation of the Vietnamese song 'Đào Nương' by Hoàng Vương. It's not a literal translation, but a close approximation to the message I believe the original author was trying to send.
The song could have two interpretations:
One was about the woman named Đào Nương, who was captured by the Ming army during the Ming-Viet war (1407-1414) alongside her sisters and they were forced to work as slaves. The Ming Dynasty set up camps in the villages, plunder wealth, and kill civilians. Men were forced to work as servants, and women were forced to work as slaves. At that time, the area was still a swampy wetland, overgrown with reeds. The enemy soldiers, not accustomed to the land, often got sick and died from poisonous mosquitoes. Đào Nương came up with a plan to kill them, using her talents of singing and dancing to enchant them, plied them with alcohol and told them to get under sackcloth to avoid mosquito bites, then secretly waited with her men late at night when the enemy was fast asleep, to carry them inside sacks and threw them into the Đà Giang river.
Back then, to check the number of troops, the enemy did not gather troops, but only built small square ramparts with two gates called duo citadels. The commanders drove their troops into this door, and when the city was full, they sent them out the other door to... measure their troops. After many times of measuring troops like that, they panicked when they saw how many troops were lost. Thinking that this land was haunted, they panicked and withdrew their troops to another place.
Later, on the day of complete victory, Lê Lợi rewarded Đào Thị Huệ, known famously by her nickname Đào Nương, and the Đào Đặng militia team. Locals asked to change the name of her village to Đào Xá (home to the girl named Đào). On November 10, year of the Rat (1432), Đào Thị Huệ passed away. After her death, people built a temple at the house where she lived. She was also the inventor of a form of Ca Trù, a vocal art form that is very developed in the Northern Delta, and a huge part of Vietnamese culture today.
Another interpretation of this song would refer to đào nương, women who sing, dance and perform Ca Trù. Their jobs were similiar to the Korean kisaeng and the Japanese geisha. Modernly, use of the job title would allude to working girls who perform the same acts, but most commonly in use to refer to sex workers. If we're using this interpretation, the song would be written from the prospective of a person in love with a đào nương who died on the job.
This translation is cross-posted on my tumbr blog (https://www.tumblr.com/rewritethelyrics) as well. I co-run this blog with my friend to translate, rewrite and/or parody songs.)
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