What song is that? (I don’t know that song either. Master knows it.) What song is it? (“I Still Remember.”) How do you sing it? I still remember… (Let me add accompaniment.) How? How do you sing it? (I still remember…) (It’s old already.) Sing two, three lines. (Each step, each quiet step When…) Yeah, I know. Rain in mid-May season. (Rain falls, falls on the road Rain falls all through the long night.) (No, no. Wrong. Master is singing that song correctly.) (Each step, each quiet step.) This is a different song? (When the lover doesn’t come.) Each step, each quiet step. (The pine grove stands in silent sadness.) Is it tango? “Silent Footsteps.” (“Each Quiet Step.”) I know it. (Yes, tango. Sing that song.) I know how to sing this song. (Yes. Master knows it, please sing it. Do You remember the song “The Singer’s Life”?) Take it slow. Every time four or five songs, who can keep track. (Each step…) …each quiet step. Know it? Again, again, again. (Yes, I’ll sing it.) (Each step…) …each step…
My love, what do you long for in the distance? Infusing the sky and clouds with sadness… La la la la… Each step, each quiet step When the lover doesn’t come The old pine grove stands silent My love, what do you long for in the distance? Infusing the sky and clouds with sadness La la la la… Each step, each quiet step Rain in mid-May season Hands weaving sorrowful memories The bitter cold wind returns, biting chill Each silent footstep I love a late-blooming love A purple dusk, a hue full of affection Dreamy eyes settled with sorrow A lamp dimly lighting the night La la la la… Each step, each quiet step When the lover doesn’t come A youth in silent sorrow Walking in the desolate evening rain Who in this life knows who loves me Each step, each quiet step Rain in mid-May season Hands weaving sorrowful memories The bitter cold wind returns, biting chill Each silent footstep I love a late-blooming love A purple dusk, a hue full of affection Dreamy eyes settled with sorrow A lamp dimly lighting the night Each step, each quiet step When the lover doesn’t come A youth in silent sorrow Walking in the desolate evening rain Who in this life knows who loves me.
The musical band “The Hen.” (Master sings the song…) This is the eunuch “The Rooster.” Director. “The Rooster” because his wife already left him. The rooster is empty. Thank you. Stay with me longer then, ye my fond guest. Why hurry ye… …to leave my heart wan. Come sit by me! This here my welcome knee, With due respect, my prince, I place them at your feet. Tread not on them nor on my soul! The Moon has taken leave for its far clime With nonchalance in the round firmament.
(Country Mother. The vegetable garden, the vegetable garden…) That’s too high, sweetie? (Oh, is it high?) (I’m going through the…) (Stop changing songs all the time.) Changing songs all the time. (I’ll hold it for You to sing.) Our country mother toils away enduring many hardships Let him [handle it]. He knows his “computer” better. A flock of chicks makes it their haven (Too high, Master. Much too high. Lower it a bit.) Can’t even sing it. (Too high.) (It has to be lower.) Oh my! Singing too high. Too high! (Master, let’s change the song.)
There was an old country mother back then. (Let me see.) Our country mother… (Change it. This one is high too, right?) Who knows? You all don’t remember, huh? (Why is it still too high?) (High.) (Let me see it.) (“Little Buffalo Herder.”) What is this “Herding Buffalo” now? They only made one song. (I’m working on this one.) (Now which song? Now doing this song already.) “Country Mother.” The vegetable garden is richly verdant A flock of chicks makes it their haven Our country mother toils away To raise her many young children. O Country Mother, the rooster crows on the bamboo tree top We have not seen you since you left for the early morning market (Too high.) (Can’t reach the note…) (What are you singing?) (Master can sing this low.)
A flock of chicks makes it their haven Our country mother toils away To raise her many young children. O Country Mother, the rooster crows on the bamboo tree top We have not seen you since you left for the early morning market We await your sweet smile and delicious treats! When it rains, our elderly country mother’s clothes are drenched With abundant rain, rice plants will thrive It’s sweltering in the yard, under the sunshine With abundant sun, harvested rice stalks can be dried. O Country Mother, you don’t mind morning or night Having no desire for anything, even as time passes by Working by the sweat of your brow for your children’s happiness. When thirsty, we wish for a full glass of water How we miss the love of our old country mother! When winter comes, only a thin blanket covers her frail body While the grandchildren sleep warm and tight. O Country Mother, leaving for a distant world O Country Mother! Since the time our homeland becomes a vague memory Gazing toward the countryside, tears are flowing. The vegetable garden is richly verdant A flock of chicks makes it their haven Another song.
(Another song.) This song is nice. (Which one?) (“We are like the rising water…” Earlier You were singing it, Master was singing it.) We are like rising water, surging on, never ebbing On the long road, just one burst of resounding laughter Dragging the shackles of a distant past behind our feet Our eyes shine brightly to the rhythm of the chains jangling. We rattle the chains in front of everyone An everlasting smile is not a smile of freshness A faraway smile, a smile of simmering resentment Our strides rush forth, flinging chains in the face of humanity. We are like rising water, surging on, never ebbing On the long road, just one burst of resounding laughter Dragging the shackles of a distant past behind our feet Our eyes shine brightly to the rhythm of the chains jangling. We rattle the chains in front of everyone A faraway smile, a smile of simmering resentment A faraway smile, a smile of simmering resentment Our strides rush forth, flinging chains in the face of humanity. Our blood poured forth from the ancient citadel of Văn Lang These flesh and bones our ancestors have forged With each passing hour we laugh defiantly…
(“One Mother, a Hundred Children.”) …As the legend goes, we were brothers and sisters of the same parents when the world was still forming when the world was still forming… (Master, please sing.)
Once upon a time, as the legend goes Once upon a time, as the legend goes, we were brothers and sisters of the same parents when the world was still forming Fifty children traversed the hills A hundred eggs thus transformed into a hundred children of the same lineage building highland villages and houses on stilts Fifty children along the Trường Sơn range From north to south, they traveled clearing waterways and reclaiming paddies, clearing waterways and reclaiming paddies. Fifty children traversed the hills They climbed mountains to open fields, building highland villages and houses on stilts building highland villages and houses on stilts Today the forest meets with the clouds. Leaves revisit the mountain. Hand in hand, we gather here. Sing with glee, O ethnic minorities and majorities. Brothers and sisters on the same land We’re all from the same family Let us sound the cymbals and gongs How they echo above thatched huts beyond bamboo roofs to the deepest woods beyond bamboo roofs to the deepest woods Antelopes and ancient monkeys Blooming foliage and herd of deer All enchanted by the gong music. Hand in hand, we gather here. Sing with glee, O ethnic minorities and majorities Brothers and sisters on the same land We’re all from the same family Let us sound the cymbals and gongs How they echo above thatched huts beyond bamboo roofs to the deepest woods beyond bamboo roofs to the deepest woods
That’s enough. OK, that’s it. The performance isn’t professional. (Sing casually.)
The string of love spreads to every home Even though we are about to part, our hearts are close Joyfully, in our hearts, we know we miss each other We are singing, surrounded by blooming flowers The road is far, but love is boundless We move forward, following the family’s beautiful legacy Though we are miles apart, our hearts are near Though we are saying goodbye, please don’t be sad The string of love spreads to every home Though we are about to part, our hearts are close Joyfully, in our hearts, we know we miss each other We are singing, surrounded by blooming flowers The road is far, but love is boundless We move forward, following the family’s beautiful legacy Though we are miles apart, our hearts are near Though we are saying goodbye, please don’t be sad The string of love spreads to every home Though we are about to part, our hearts are close Joyfully, in our hearts, we know we miss each other We are singing, surrounded by blooming flowers The road is far, but love is boundless We move forward, following the family’s beautiful legacy Though we are miles apart, our hearts are near Though we are saying goodbye, please don’t be sad The string of love spreads to every home Though we are about to part, our hearts are close Joyfully, in our hearts, we know we miss each other We are singing, surrounded by blooming flowers The road is far, but love is boundless We move forward, following the family’s beautiful legacy Though we are miles apart, our hearts are near Though we are saying goodbye, please don’t be sad
Photo Caption: “Love Has No Differentiation”
