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PostPosted: Mar 09, 2005 - 07:52 PM 
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Location: In Your Eyes
Hooray ... Mp3 mới kiếm thấy English Verson mấy Dzê thưỡng thức ...

A hundred years­­­—in this life span on earth

talent and destiny are apt to feud.

You must go through a play of ebb and flow*

and watch such things as make you sick at heart.

Is it so strange that losses balance gains?* 5

Blue Heaven's wont to strike arose from spite.*



By lamplight turn these scented leaves and read

a tale of love recorded in old books.

Under the Chia-ching reign when Ming held sway,*

all lived at peace—both capitals stood strong.* 10

There was a burgher in the clan of Vuong,*

a man of modest wealth and middle rank.

He had a last‑born son, Vuong Quan—his hope*

to carry on a line of learned folk.

Two daughters, beauties both, had come before: 15

Thuy Kieu was oldest, younger was Thuy Van.*

Bodies like slim plum branches, snow‑pure souls:

each her own self, each perfect in her way.

In quiet grace Van was beyond compare:

her face a moon, her eyebrows two full curves; 20

her smile a flower, her voice the song of jade;

her hair the sheen of clouds, her skin white snow.

Yet Kieu possessed a keener, deeper charm,

surpassing Van in talents and in looks.

Her eyes were autumn streams, her brows spring hills. 25

Flowers grudged her glamour, willows her fresh hue.

A glance or two from her, and kingdoms rocked!

Supreme in looks, she had few peers in gifts.

By Heaven blessed with wit, she knew all skills:

she could write verse and paint, could sing and chant. 30

Of music she had mastered all five tones*

and played the lute far better than Ai Chang.*

She had composed a song called Cruel Fate*

to mourn all women in soul‑rending strains.

A paragon of grace for womanhood,* 35

she neared that time when maidens pinned their hair.*

She calmly lived behind drawn shades and drapes,

as wooers swarmed, unheeded, by the wall.*



Swift swallows and spring days were shuttling by—

of ninety radiant ones three score had fled. 40

Young grass spread all its green to heaven's rim;

some blossoms marked pear branches with white dots.

Now came the Feast of Light in the third month*

with graveyard rites and junkets on the green.

As merry pilgrims flocked from near and far,* 45

the sisters and their brother went for a stroll.

Fine men and beauteous women on parade:

a crush of clothes, a rush of wheels and steeds.*

Folks clambered burial knolls to strew and burn


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Last edited by Mp3EnAlcohol on Mar 09, 2005 - 08:16 PM, edited 3 times in total.

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PostPosted: Mar 09, 2005 - 08:14 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
~ Mới Lớn ~

Joined: Jan 31, 2005 - 07:42 PM
Posts: 789
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đó mấy người hỏi thì tui đáp cho ...


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PostPosted: Mar 11, 2005 - 02:11 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
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Joined: Jan 31, 2005 - 07:42 PM
Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
you want more ?


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PostPosted: Mar 13, 2005 - 10:14 PM 
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That's actually really good... But without rhythm... it seems a bit dull ... Thanks mp3 ... more please :ico.:

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PostPosted: Mar 14, 2005 - 08:14 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
~ Mới Lớn ~

Joined: Jan 31, 2005 - 07:42 PM
Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
the sisters and their brother went for a stroll.

Fine men and beauteous women on parade:

a crush of clothes, a rush of wheels and steeds.*

Folks clambered burial knolls to strew and burn

sham gold or paper coins, and ashes swirled. 50

Now, as the sun was dipping toward the west,

the youngsters started homeward, hand in hand.

With leisured steps they walked along a brook,

admiring here and there a pretty view.

The rivulet, babbling, curled and wound its course 55

under a bridge that spanned it farther down.

Beside the road a mound of earth loomed up

where withered weeds, half yellow and half green.

Kieu asked: "Now that the Feast of Light is on,

why is no incense burning for this grave?" 60

Vuong Quan told her this tale from first to last:

"She was a famous singer once, Dam Tien.*

Renowned for looks and talents in her day,

she lacked not lovers jostling at her door.*

But fate makes roses fragile—in mid‑spring* 65

off broke the flower that breathed forth heaven's scents.

From overseas a stranger came to woo

and win a girl whose name spread far and wide.

But when the lover's boat sailed into port,

he found the pin had snapped, the vase had crashed.* 70

A death‑still silence filled the void, her room;*

all tracks of horse or wheels had blurred to moss.

He wept, full of a grief no words could tell:

`Harsh is the fate that has kept us apart!

Since in this life we are not meant to meet, 75

let me pledge you my troth for our next life.’

He purchased both a coffin and a hearse*

and rested her in dust beneath this mound,

among the grass and flowers. For many moons,*

who's come to tend a grave that no one claims?" 80

A well of pity lay within Kieu's heart:

as soon as she had heard her tears burst forth.*

"How sorrowful is women's lot!" she cried.

"We all partake of woe, our common fate.

Creator, why are you so mean and cruel, 85

blighting green days and fading rose-fresh cheeks?*

Alive, she played the wife to all the world,

alas, to end down there without a man!

Where are they now who shared in her embrace?*

Where are they now who lusted for her charms?* 90

Since no one else gives her a glance, a thought,

I'll light some incense candles while I'm here.

I'll mark our chance encounter on the road—

perhaps, down by the Yellow Springs, she'll know."

She prayed in mumbled tones, then she knelt down 95

to make a few low bows before the tomb.

Dusk gathered on a patch of wilted weeds—

reed tassels swayed as gently blew the breeze.

She pulled a pin out of her hair and graved

four lines of stop‑short verse on a tree's bark.*


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PostPosted: Mar 14, 2005 - 08:21 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
~ Mới Lớn ~

Joined: Jan 31, 2005 - 07:42 PM
Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
ko ... :lol:


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PostPosted: Mar 14, 2005 - 08:23 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
~ Mới Lớn ~

Joined: Jan 31, 2005 - 07:42 PM
Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
cu coi nhu dzi di :lol:


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PostPosted: Mar 17, 2005 - 04:38 PM 
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no more? :lol:

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PostPosted: Mar 21, 2005 - 05:47 PM 
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Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
Deeper and deeper sank her soul in trance—

all hushed, she tarried there and would not leave.

The cloud on her fair face grew darker yet:

as sorrow ebbed or flowed, tears dropped or streamed.

Van said: "My sister, you should be laughed at, 105

lavishing tears on one long dead and gone!"

"Since ages out of mind," retorted Kieu,

"harsh fate has cursed all women, sparing none.*

As I see her lie there, it hurts to think

what will become of me in later days." 110

"A fine speech you just made!" protested Quan.

"It jars the ears to hear you speak of her

and mean yourself. Dank air hangs heavy here—

day's failing, and there's still a long way home."

Kieu said: "When one who shines in talent dies, 115

the body passes on, the soul remains.

In her, perhaps, I've found a kindred heart:

let's wait and soon enough she may appear."

Before they could respond to what Kieu said,

a whirlwind rose from nowhere, raged and raved. 120

It blustered, strewing buds and shaking trees

and scattering whiffs of perfume in the air.

They strode along the path the whirlwind took

and plainly saw fresh footprints on the moss.

They stared at one another, terror-struck. 125

"You've heard the prayer of my pure faith!" Kieu cried.

"As kindred hearts, we've joined each other here—

transcending life and death, soul sisters meet."

Dam Tien had cared to manifest herself:

to what she'd written Kieu now added thanks. 130

A poet's feelings, rife with anguish, flowed:

she carved an old-style poem on the tree.*



To leave or stay—they all were wavering still*

when nearby rang the sound of harness bells.

They saw a youthful scholar come their way 135

astride a colt he rode with slackened rein.

He carried poems packing half his bag,*

and tagging at his heels were some page boys.

His frisky horse's coat was dyed with snow.

His gown blent tints of grass and pale blue sky. 140

He spied them from afar, at once alit

and walked toward them to pay them his respects.

His figured slippers trod the green—the field

now sparkled like some jade-and-ruby grove.

Young Vuong stepped forth and greeted him he knew 145

while two shy maidens hid behind the flowers.

He came from somewhere not so far away,

Kim Trong, a scion of the noblest stock.*

Born into wealth and talent, he'd received

his wit from heaven, a scholar's trade from men. 150

Manner and mien set him above the crowd:

he studied books indoors, lived high abroad.

Since birth he'd always called this region home—

he and young Vuong were classmates at their school.

His neighbors' fame had spread and reached his ear: 155

two beauties locked in their Bronze Sparrow Tower!*

But, as if hills and streams had barred the way,

he had long sighed and dreamt of them, in vain.

How lucky, in this season of new leaves,*

to roam about and find his yearned-for flowers! 160

He caught a fleeting glimpse of both afar:

spring orchid, autumn mum—a gorgeous pair!

Beautiful girl and talented young man—

what stirred their hearts their eyes still dared not say.

They hovered, rapture-bound, `tween wake and dream: 165

they could not stay, nor would they soon depart.

The dusk of sunset prompted thoughts of gloom—

he left, and longingly she watched him go.

Below a stream flowed clear, and by the bridge

a twilit willow rustled threads of silk. 170



When Kieu got back behind her flowered drapes,

the sun had set, the curfew gong had rung.

Outside the window, squinting, peeped the moon—

gold spilled on waves, trees shadowed all the yard.

East drooped a red camellia, toward the next house:* 175

as dewdrops fell, the spring branch bent and bowed.

Alone, in silence, she beheld the moon,*

her heart a raveled coil of hopes and fears:

"Lower than that no person could be brought!

It's just a bauble then, the glittering life. 180

And who is he? Why did we chance to meet?

Does fate intend some tie between us two?"

Her bosom heaved in turmoil—she poured forth

a wondrous lyric fraught with all she felt.

The moonlight through the blinds was falling slant. 185

Leaning against the window, she drowsed off.

Now out of nowhere there appeared a girl

of worldly glamour joined to virgin grace:

face washed with dewdrops, body clad in snow,

and hovering feet, two golden lotus blooms.* 190

With joy Kieu hailed the stranger, asking her:

"Did you stray here from that Peach Blossom Spring?"

"We two are sister souls," the other said.*

"Have you forgotten? We just met today!

My cold abode lies west of here, out there, 195

above a running brook, below a bridge.

By pity moved, you stooped to notice me

and strew on me poetic pearls and gems.

I showed them to our League Chief and was told*

your name is marked in the Book of the Damned. * 200

We both reap what we sowed in our past lives:

of the same League, we ride the selfsame boat.

Well, ten new subjects our League Chief just set:

again please work your magic with a brush."

Kieu did as asked and wrote—with nymphic grace 205

her hand dashed off ten lyrics at one stroke.

Dam Tien read them and marveled to herself:

"Rich‑wrought embroidery from a heart of gold!

Included in the Book of Sorrow Songs,*

they'll yield the palm to none but win first prize." 210

The caller crossed the doorsill, turned to leave,

but Kieu would hold her back and talk some more.

A sudden gust of wind disturbed the blinds,

and Kieu awakened, knowing she had dreamed.

She looked, but nowhere could she see the girl, 215

though hints of perfume lingered here and there.

Alone with her dilemma in deep night,

she viewed the road ahead and dread seized her.

A rose afloat, a water fern adrift:

such was the lot her future held in store. 220

Her inmost feelings surged, wave after wave—

again and yet again she broke and cried.

Kieu's sobs sent echoes through the phoenix drapes.

Aroused, her mother asked: "What troubles you*

that you still stir and fret at dead of night, 225

your cheeks like some pear blossoms drenched with rain?"

Kieu said: "You once bore me, you've brought me up,

a double debt I've not repaid one whit.

Today, while strolling, I found Dam Tien's grave,

then in a dream she just revealed herself. 230

She told me how by fate I'm doomed to grief,

delivered themes on which I wrote some songs.

As I interpret what the dream portends,

my life in days ahead won't come to much!"

Her mother said: "Are dreams and vapors grounds 235

whereon to build a tale of woe? Just think!"

Kieu tried to heed such words of sound advice,

but soon her tears welled up and flowed again.*

Outside the window chirped an oriole—

over the wall a catkin flew next door.* 240

The tilting moonlight lay aslant the porch—

she stayed alone, alone with her own grief.



How strange, the race of lovers! Try as you will,*

you can't unsnarl their hearts' entangled threads.

Since Kim was back inside his book‑lined walls, 245

he could not drive her from his haunted mind.

He drained the cup of gloom: it filled anew­—

one day without her seemed three autumns long.

Silk curtains veiled her windows like dense clouds,

and toward the rose within he'd dream his way. 250


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PostPosted: Mar 21, 2005 - 09:02 PM 
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hết rồi hả

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PostPosted: Mar 22, 2005 - 07:53 PM 
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~ Mới Lớn ~
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Posts: 789
Location: In Your Eyes
The moon kept waning, oil kept burning low:

his face yearned for her face, his heart her heart.

The study‑room turned icy, metal‑cold­­­—*

brushes lay dry, lute strings hung loose on frets.

Hsiang bamboo blinds stirred rustling in the wind—* 255

incense roused longing, tea lacked love's sweet taste.

If fate did not mean them to join as mates,*

why had the temptress come and teased his eyes?*

Forlorn, he missed the scene, he missed the girl:

he rushed back where by chance the two had met. 260

A tract of land with grasses lush and green,

with waters crystal‑clear: he saw naught else.

The breeze at twilight stirred a mood of grief—­

the reeds waved back and forth as if to taunt.

A lover's mind is full of her he loves: 265

he walked straight on and made toward her Blue Bridge.*

Fast gate, high wall: no stream for his red leaf,*

no passage for his bluebird bearing word.*

A willow dropped its curtain of silk threads—­

perched on a branch, an oriole chirped jeers. 270

All doors were shut, all bolts were locked in place.

A threshold strewn with flowers—where was she?

He lingered, standing there as time passed by,

then to the rear he strolled—he saw a house.

Its owner, traveling heathen climes for trade,* 275

was still away—left vacant were the rooms.

Young Kim, as student, came to rent the house­

he brought his lute, his books, and settled in.

He lacked for nothing—trees and rocks, a porch

inscribed in vivid gold: "Kingfisher View." * 280

The porch's name made him exult inside:

"It must be Heaven's will that we should meet!"

He left his window open just a ****

and daily glanced his eyes toward that east wall.

Nearby both spring and grotto stayed tight shut: * 285

he failed to see the nymph flit in and out.

Since he left home to dwell at this strange lodge,

twice on its rounds the moon had come and gone.

Now, on a balmy day, across the wall,

he glimpsed a lissome form beneath peach trees. 290

He dropped the lute, smoothed down his gown, rushed out:

her scent was wafting still—of her no trace.

As he paced round the wall, his eye espied

a golden hairpin caught on a peach branch.

He reached for it and took it home. He thought: 295

"It left a woman's chamber and came here.

This jewel must be hers. Why, fate binds us­—

if not, could it have fallen in my hands?"

Now sleepless, he admired and stroked the pin

still faintly redolent of sandalwood. 300

At dawn when mists had cleared, he found the girl

peering along the wall with puzzled eyes.

The student had been lurking there in wait—­

across the wall he spoke to test her heart:

"From nowhere I have found this hairpin here: 305

I would send back the pearl, but where's Ho‑p'u?"

Now from the other side Kieu's voice was heard:

"I thank him who won't keep a jewel found.

A pin's worth little, but it means so much

that in your scale what's right weighs more than gold." 310

He said: "We come and go in these same parts—­

we're neighbors, not two strangers, not at all!

I owe this moment to some scent you dropped,

but countless torments I've endured till now.

So long I've waited for just this one day! 315

Stay on and let me ask your private thoughts."

He hurried off and fetched some things from home:

gold bracelets in a pair, a scarf of silk.

By ladder he could climb across the wall:

she was the one he'd met that day, no doubt! 320

Ashamed, the girl maintained a shy reserve:

while he gazed at her face, she hung her head.

He said: "We chanced to meet—and ever since

I have in secret yearned and pined for you.

My slender frame has wasted—who'd have thought 325

that I could linger on to see this day?

For months I dreamt my goddess in the clouds;*

lovelorn, I hugged my post, prepared to drown.*

But you are here—I beg to ask one thing:

will on a leaf of grass the mirror shine?" * 330

She faltered—after some demur she said:

"Our ways are snow‑pure, plain as turnip greens.

When comes the time for love, the marriage bond,*

my parents' wish will tie it or will not.

You deign to care for me, but I'm too young 335

to know what's right and dare not give my word."

He said: "It blows one day and rains the next­—

how often does chance favor us in spring?

If you ignore and scorn my desperate love,

you'll hurt me—yet what will it profit you? 340

Let's pledge our troth with something—once that's done,

I'll plan our wedding through a go‑between.

Should Heaven disappoint my fondest hopes,*

I'll throw away a life in vernal bloom.

If to a lover's plea you shut your heart, 345

I'll have pursued you all in vain, for naught!"

All hushed, she drank in words whose music lulled­—

love stirred the autumn calm of her fair eyes.

She said: "Although our friendship's still quite new,

how can my heart resist your heart's behest? 350

To your kind bosom you have taken me—­

I'll etch your word, our troth, in stone and bronze."

Her words untied a knot within his breast—­

to her he passed gold bracelets and red scarf.

"Henceforth I'm bound to you for life," he said. 355

"Call these small gifts a token of my love."

In hand she had a sunflower‑figured fan:*

she traded it that instant for her pin.

They had just sworn an oath to seal their pact

when from the backyard voices came, abuzz. 350

Both fled—in flurries leaves and flowers fell,

and he regained his study, she her room.



The stone and gold had touched—and from that time,

their love grew deeper, more distraught their minds.

The Hsiang, the stream of longing tears, ran low: 365

he waited at the spring, she at the mouth.

The wall rose like a snow‑capped mountain range,

and words of love could not go back and forth.

As windswept days and moonlit nights wheeled round,

red dimmed, green deepened—spring was past and gone. 370

A birthday feast fell due in Mother's clan:

with their two younger children, both old folks

in gay attire left home to journey forth

presenting their best wishes and a gift.

A hushed, deserted house—she stayed alone: 375

a chance to see him on this day, she thought.

She set out fare in season, treats galore,

then toward the wall she bent her nimble steps.

She sent a soft‑voiced call across the flowers:

he was already there awaiting her. 380

He said: "Your heart cares not for what I feel­—

so long you've let love's fire burn to cold ash.

Sorrow and yearning I have felt by turns,

and half my head of hair frost's tinged with gray."

She said: "Wind's held me up, rain's kept me back— 385

I've hurt your feelings much against my wish.

I'm home alone today—I've come out here

to make amends repaying love for love."

She slid around the rock garden and reached

a fresh‑barred passage at the wall's far end. 390

She rolled up sleeves, unlocked the fairy cave,

and cleared through clouds the path to Paradise!*

Face gazed at face to glow with purest joy.

Fond greetings they exchanged. Then, side by side,

they walked together toward his study‑room 395

while mingling words of love and vows of troth.

Brush rack and tube for poems on his desk­—

above, there hung a sketch of pale green pines.

Frost‑bitten and wind‑battered, they looked real:

the more she gazed, the more they sprang to life. 400


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PostPosted: Mar 29, 2005 - 03:41 AM 
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trờiiiiiiiiiiii :D

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PostPosted: Jun 06, 2005 - 01:02 PM 
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hết mp3 với alcohol nên ko post tiếp hả ??? :P

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PostPosted: Jun 06, 2005 - 08:47 PM 
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Con nua ma tiep di


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PostPosted: Jun 06, 2005 - 09:13 PM 
Interesting :-)


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