THE MASTER

The Master (Vietnamese Poem “Ông Đồ”; Translated into English by Thu Trang)

 Dec 22, 2011 — After reading the translation of the famous Vietnamese poem “Ong Do,” I decided to seek help from an American professor, who I know has a great mind and is able to help edit it. Then she replied with a few edits that have made the translation better off. What a magic touch. Now I am so pleased to post here again the edited version of the translation by Vuong Thu Trang (Eighth-grader at Bilingual French-Vietnamese Class 8P, Giang Vo Junior High).

THE MASTER
(Translated by Vuong Thu Trang; with help from Prof. Nancy K. Napier)

Peach blossoms bloomed every spring
There again, the old master came
With red paper and black ink
On a street, where the people claimed

They claimed to buy his writings,
And all praised him while buying
“Just a mere move of his hand
Turns strokes into a phoenix dance!”

But fewer buyers came each year
Admirers, where did they go…?
Unused ink laid like black tears;
Red paper dulled in sorrow…

That old master just sat there
Among those who did not care.
On the dull red fallen dead leaves;
There fell soft rain with slight grief.

Another peach blossoms’ spring
Yet the old master is not there.
Oh, where are they wandering
Old folks’ souls we all forgot?

Hanoi, Dec 22, 2011