We initially thought that adapting a play was just a momentary whim, a fleeting "craze" for the linguist Huu Dat. But unexpectedly, writing became his daily routine. And now, we're no longer surprised, because for nearly 40 years, in addition to his professional work (teaching and researching linguistics), Huu Dat has truly been a "hardworking farmer" cultivating his literary field. He writes very quickly and prolifically (I can't even count the number of books he's written to date). In a way, Huu Dat could be considered a "phenomenon." Why not? There was a time when my friends and I would jokingly ask each other: "I wonder when that guy finds the time to write?" (Back when we shared a dorm room in building C1, Me Tri Dormitory, I observed that whenever he had free time, Huu Dat would diligently sit and write at a makeshift desk placed right on his bed.) A person's lifespan is limited; besides earning a living, they do so many other things. For most people, literature is just a "game." Some even find their main job exhausting and feel they lack time. Yet, Huu Dat, in addition to his professional field (which has been recognized by society: he's been an associate professor for many years), has written dozens of books (both textbooks and monographs), fulfilled his duties as a father and husband (as effectively as two others), and still manages to build such a substantial literary career. His work ethic is truly that of a "true farmer"! Only a genuine farmer would work so diligently and industriously.
I call Huu Dat a "true old farmer" for another reason as well: for nearly 40 years.writingIn his career, Huu Dat has "cultivated" almost every literary genre, writing research, criticism, short stories, novels, stage scripts, film scripts, essays, etc. Perhaps "old farmer" Huu Dat has now completely plowed his allocated plot of land. Only a "tiny piece of land" remains where he hasn't had time to "sow new seeds": poetry and a memoir (although Huu Dat already has a very impressive memoir).Literary portraits(It once caused a stir in public opinion). I thought that with everything he had done, Huu Dat must be very satisfied. But it seems that's not the case. One beautiful day three weeks ago, he met me with a "cheerful" face. He gave me a bound stack of A4 papers containing nearly a hundred poems. This time I wasn't surprised. I think this is the inevitable result of a person deeply imbued with literary soul like Huu Dat. This person has gone through many ups and downs in life, and after having "plowed through" his familiar field, this time he wants to try his hand at a new field: poetry. That's all. After all, for a multi-talented writer like Huu Dat, this is inevitable. The only question remaining is, will that stack of A4 papers with nearly a hundred poems surpass the enormous prose career he once had? And it seems it did. The first day I received his poems, I read them and immediately offered encouragement: "I think Hữu Đạt's poems are better than his prose." I was afraid Hữu Đạt would be offended. But he wasn't. On the contrary, he was very happy. It turned out that, despite having received so much praise from prose writers, Hữu Đạt still felt "delighted" to receive comments from someone like me, who isn't considered a "ranked" poetry connoisseur. That made me feel completely at ease as I began writing these lines. Readers probably won't blame me if any of my comments about his poetry aren't entirely satisfactory.Travelby Huu Dat.
Poetry is considered a "beauty queen" in the field of literature in general. That's absolutely true: with prose, stage plays, or even film scripts, sometimes just a little talent, coupled with persistent effort, is enough to create a masterpiece. But with poetry, I can guarantee that unless you are truly "God-given," or as Han Mac Tu and Vu Hoang Chuong put it, "crazy" and "intoxicated," then no matter how much you want to, you'll only be able to write a few verses, and certainly not genuine poetry. Yet, right from his first "competition," Huu Dat has presented readers with a collection of genuine poems, nearly a hundred in total. This "wordsmith," after a journey exploring the "field of literature," after "traveling" through almost all forms and genres: linguistic research, literature, criticism, prose, essays, stage scripts, film scripts, and now a poet at the age of "sixty" (as the title of a poetry collection by a literature professor, a friend of mine and his, recently published: Associate Professor Dr. Nguyen Ba Thanh). I kept telling myself that Huu Dat wouldn't stop here: either he would continue to publish new poetry collections; or, he would have one last thing to do in his life, which is to write a memoir, "so that when he closes his eyes in death he will have no regrets, because all his life and strength have been dedicated to the literary cause of mankind" (parodying Oxtropxki)...
TravelHữu Đạt named his substantial collection of nearly a hundred poems that way.TravelIt was indeed a battleGo farTraveling far isn't necessarily anything special, but with Huu Dat, I find it special. Because, judging by his appearance—small, bookish in stature, even though he already had a solid foundation in literature before turning to poetry—Go farFor him, it remains a challenging experience. Having accepted the challenge of "going far," will Huu Dat have the patience to reach the end of the journey? Or, even if he does reach the end, will the "fruit" he harvests from that first journey be sweet to the reader? That's just what I think to myself, but for a professional writer like Huu Dat, even if he steps into a new field, his first works would surely be "not bad." Or, to put it another way, none of the pieces in the collection...TravelThe works of writer Huu Dat are not "clean water," as chess players, of which Huu Dat himself is a "chess player," once said. That being said, I don't mean to abruptly assume that all hundred poems in the collection are...TravelThey are all "masterpieces." I believe that not only Huu Dat, but anyone working in literature wants their works to be accepted by readers, but not in a simplistic or vague way; they all have to be "masterpieces." I remember, though I'm not sure if it's accurate, Ho Chi Minh, when speaking about the collection...Prison DiaryHe humorously remarked, "There are both good and mediocre pieces."TravelHuu Dat's case is no exception.
I assert this for my own reasons: Having spent almost his entire life writing extensively and being so familiar with prose, when Hữu Đạt ventures into poetry, considered a refined and selective genre, will he become "prosely-ized"? Poetry contains many mysteries, many inexplicable things, many illogical elements, compared to prose. I remember a very famous Bulgarian poet, Blaga Dimitrova, who visited Vietnam during the war years, saying this about poetry: "If I knew what poetry was, I wouldn't be suffering like this." Poetry also differs from prose in that anyone, no matter how skillful, will find it difficult to write poetry if they only rely on "a few pre-existing templates." I have to elaborate like this because some might think that someone who has written so much prose like Hữu Đạt would find it hard to write good poetry. That's not the case; when he moves into the realm of poetry, we still recognize Huu Dat as "professional" as any other genuine poet. For example, right from the title of his poetry collection,TravelThe author's words are full of hidden meaning: after almost a lifetime, which can also be considered a journey, he is now looking back at the fruits of his labor after many years of toiling in the field of literature. I remember that Nguyen Duy, a famous poet from Thanh Hoa, who was in the same K16 class as him and me, also published a collection of poems titled...Long distanceThere was a poem that, back then, sent shivers down our spines when we read it: "Yes – there was a time of great glory/great sorrow, great blood and bones/the eyes of the dead stared, refusing to close…"View of the homeland from afar.The great national poet Nguyen Du also once wrote: "Thinking about the future on this long journey fills me with dread." In short,Long distanceFor anyone, it's always a challenge. Huu Dat is no exception, but he has truly succeeded in this poetic work. So many memories, so many lives, so many thoughts, loves, and regrets have been captured through the lens of the "traveler" Huu Dat. In the four lines of the epigraph of the poetry collection, Huu Dat summarizes the overall spirit.TravelHere's what it says:
Traveling to all corners of the world.
I still remember the image of my homeland.
My heart yearns for words.
Deep within the spiritual realm
These four quatrains essentially encapsulate the soul and character of both the poet and the man. Describing himself as a "traveler who journeys to all corners of the world," Huu Dat was truly an extrovert in life; in his youth, he traveled extensively and loved to explore, much like Nguyen Tuan.A glorious pastNot only is Huu Dat passionate about exploring different regions of his country, but he also...travelHe has traveled to many places, many unfamiliar lands. Not everyone in their life is so lucky. He travels a lot and is extroverted, but in his poetry, Huu Dat often only "feels the anguish" of his own inner world. I know that in real life, Huu Dat is a soft-spoken person who cherishes feelings. The poetic persona within him leans towards introversion. Despite traveling a lot, that poetic persona always seems to return to his inner world, to his heart, to his many worries and anxieties.TravelFor him, poetry is essentially a transformation stemming from the long journeys he has taken in his real life.
Among the more than one hundred poems in the collectionTravel,I observed that Huu Dat's footsteps took him to many new and unfamiliar lands. And with the habit of a long-time chronicler, there was no place he visited that didn't leave behind a few lines of emotion. In the land of Li Bai and Du Fu, he wrote poems about Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangdong (Summer Palace, Forbidden City, Crossing the Xiang River, Remembering Cui Hao, Longmen Gate...). In his stream of emotional poems about China, mostly quatrains, with memories touching the depths of literature he had learned during his four years at school, Huu Dat has some quite moving lines of poetry:
"A lonely flower petal in the open air"
A boat is anchored at the dock, and a fisherman is fishing.
Evening smoke rises over Hac Lau wharf.
"Traveling far, travelers look at each other, feeling homesick."
(Crane Wharf)
Having traveled through Russia, to Moscow, the place where he spent nearly six years (during his postgraduate studies), his memories of it are certainly not always pleasant. Moscow, with its once-famous landmarks for Vietnamese students and researchers: the Dome Market, Dom 5, the "scams," even the "gambles" involving one's life, Hữu Đạt rarely, if ever, mentions those "lively" events. Perhaps that's just his nature: in real life, Hữu Đạt doesn't like the hustle and bustle, he's not the type for "action movies." He prefers gentleness and sentiment. Therefore, when writing about the land of Pushkin and Lev Tolstoy, he only mentions beautiful memories: looking at the Russian autumn, he remembers an autumn day at West Lake: "I sit here / remembering the surface of West Lake / The hazy afternoon / clouds drifting towards the rooftops / The burning sun / the brilliant autumn afternoon / Sweat falling on your cheeks"Collect)Or, for him, Russia is a New Year's Eve, a feeling of compassion for a fellow countryman in a foreign land.New Year's Eve in Moscow); or the feeling of a white flower in the land of birch trees, contrasting with the white dress of home: "The sun shines brightly on the fragrant pine forest / Your shadow is like the wind amidst a thousand flowers / Hearing your teary eyes through the song / Suddenly I see the shadow of home somewhere"White flowers.
Traveling through France, arriving in Paris, and visiting the ancient Palace of Versailles.Beside the Castle of Versailles). Upon arriving in Belgium, passing through the capital Brussels, there is another famous literary landmark that Huu Dat did not miss: Waterloo Fortress, a place associated with the name of the brilliant general Napoleon Bonaparte.Visit Fort WaterlooUpon arriving in Amsterdam, the capital of the Netherlands, Huu Dat couldn't help but be moved by the gentle and kind people of this land of the "Orange Tornado":
"The people of this land are as gentle as the earth."
A peaceful city amidst the greenery.
The waves murmur around my sleep.
The ship called out in the distance as it departed…”
(Via Amsterdam).
Just reading through the place names or the names of famous figures from the countries Huu Dat has visited, anyone, including myself, who occasionally takes a few trips, would feel a pang of longing. How could one not, because the value of a lifetime, as I understand it, is measured by the number of places one has visited. "Travel is living," "Just keep going, keep going, hear many new and strange sounds"… Nguyen Tuan, Pham Tien Duat, Nguyen Duy… are all poets who wrote like that. Perhaps that's why what I noticed in the first poetry collection of professional writer Huu Dat is that it is a collection of poems.travel diaryHuu Dat writes poetry much like a diary. Although he doesn't write regularly and doesn't meticulously record dates in each poem, what he has written reveals him to be a diligent bee, a traveler rich in emotion. Memories and emotions permeate his poetry collection.TravelPassing by the Crane Tower, I remember the poet Hieu; resting by the Xiang River, feelings of longing and nostalgia from days of separation surge forth; remembering Li Bai once drinking wine under the moon while crossing the Hubei River… In this stream of memories, in dialogue with China, Huu Dat's poetry subtly reflects something of classical Eastern poetry. He uses many forms of quatrains, a type of poetry with few words but much meaning, famous in China at one time. Meanwhile, the stream of memories about more distant lands, Moscow, Paris, Brussels, that stream of memories seems to be extended. I think, for Huu Dat, memories of Russia, the land of birch trees, are perhaps unforgettable, "to live and remember." Remembering Russia is, of course, true, but remembering his "fate" during the days of struggling to make a living, the days when his "beloved half" in his homeland was at some point far away, Huu Dat searches for memories of a white flower (or a girl in a white dress):
"White flowers, like your white dress."
These flowers are also flowers of the mountains and forests.
He is a visitor from afar.
Standing silently, lost in thought, I transformed into a birch tree.
Halfway through the life of a traveler, yet unfinished.
Why did I have to meet you in this place?
He walks between two shores of longing.
"The forest flowers are fragrant, bees fly everywhere."
(White flowers)
TravelThere is a string of poems written aboutthe returnThese are journeys back to the very depths of memory. Many memories, recollections, and images from the past accompany you throughout this journey.TravelAlong with the poet, these are journeys back to the old school, the dormitory, the old teachers, to the homeland, to the mother, to loved ones, and perhaps even more so to a few familiar faces from the past, "Where are they now?" (Vu Dinh Lien). School memories and student life are present in many poems in the collection.Travel.It seems that after nearly half a century dedicated to teaching, and now about to say goodbye to his beloved students, Huu Dat wants to relive the joys and sorrows of the past through this experience.travel backAs a young, handsome, scholarly, and multi-talented teacher, even though bound and constrained by the formalities of his profession, I still can't believe that throughout his journey, the "poet" Huu Dat wasn't haunted by a few fleeting romances. Therefore, in this collection...TravelWe see that he has many quests, many vague memories, many "what ifs," and many regrets:Perhaps it was also the hand of creation / That made us fall in love from the moment we were born / So that upon meeting, we were instantly turned to stone / In sorrow and longing that will last for a thousand years."; or: "I remember my old school every time I go to class / The faint sound of songs echoes as I walk home / The cold wind of late winter, the scorching sun of midsummer / Which umbrella tilted to shield you from the wind??". And sometimes, when nostalgia wells up, the traveling poet continues his quests, just as he did when he was a young man:"I search for the swaying breeze / The wild grass is tangled all afternoon"; "I search for the autumn breeze / Wandering throughout the winter days"; "I search for the autumn breeze / Wandering throughout the winter days"" (We are looking for; or: "He returned to the old wharf of his childhood / The river still murmurs with its two currents / The boat waits for the water halfway up the bank / The water is very clear / But your shadow is not there" (Returning to the Old Wharf); or also:"As if I still see you / in those afternoons going to class / Your eyes looking up / A distant afternoon"(As I still see you)…
At the age of nearly sixty, Hữu Đạt sometimes reveals youthful emotions, concerns, and sorrows to his life partner:
"It's getting cold tonight, are you using a blanket?"
When the wind changes, do you remember someone far away?
In the gentle breeze, I hear my wife's soft voice.
"I felt nauseous under the lamp in the corner of the room."
(A Night Away from Home)
With his mother, with the children of his "marriage of a bygone era," Huu Dat always maintains a very sincere affection. Thinking about his mother who sacrificed her whole life for her "children," his emotions sometimes well up, whenever he remembers her from a difficult time. The mother in Huu Dat's poetry resembles the image of the mother in the poem.On the other side of the Duong Riverby Hoang Cam: "To save the hungry, my mother went to sell goods tirelessly / Twenty kilometers every day / Her frail body carried a heavy load on her shoulders / Her form was like a thin thread"My mother). In another relationship, the father-son relationship, when speaking to his grown children, he still speaks with the words of a responsible father: "Parents raise their children through difficult times / Carefully saving every grain of salt and every bowl of rice / Hoping that their children will one day grow up / To repay the debt of gratitude for their birth."Father's wordsPerhaps the most heartfelt poems are those he wrote about his teachers – those who gave him the "words" to become the poet Huu Dat he is today. With this series of poems, Huu Dat leaves behind many profound emotions. These are the poems:Out of love for the teacher, there is a belief that teaching does not make a master. Teacher DTH, Teacher LHS, Teacher HTCThe poems he wrote dedicated to his beloved teachers from a bygone era, though not fully documented, immediately reveal which teachers he was referring to, especially for those who have been with him for the past half-century (like me, for example). For instance, about Professor HTP:Still with the flowing hair of youth / Still with the radiant smile of springtime / At eighty, still riding her motorbike to class / Two or three sessions a week / Her hands dance in circles like an artist / Her voice rises and falls like the melodious sound of a kite's flute / Her feet move gracefully, her figure like a crane / Her shadow flutters over the lesson plan for each section" (There is a beliefHữu Đạt wrote about Associate Professor ĐTH, Teacher ND LHS, People's Teacher HTC… all with respect and the affection of a student who loves his teacher. But perhaps there is one portrait of a teacher I like the most, one that is deeply meaningful, even though during our time as students, for some reason (Professor L was in a specialized administrative role), Hữu Đạt and I were not able to attend his lectures directly. Nevertheless, his heart, heavy with gratitude, still reserved beautiful words of praise for his teacher:A lifetime of selfless teaching/But why have I never become a true teacher?/For so many years, I've steered the boat across the shore/Carrying the older generation and waiting for the younger one/My hair is turning gray/But why do I still endure the hardships of sun and rain/Leaving early and returning at noon/Alone…and seeing myself off/Without virtue, there is no glory/As a lotus, I fear not the stench of mud…" (A teacher cannot become a master.)
The most outstanding feature in the episode.TravelPerhaps this is evident in the poems that demonstrate Huu Dat's passionate pursuit of formal innovation. Writing in the lục bát (six-eight) meter, a form of poetry very familiar to many, and already seen in unique innovations by numerous poets, Huu Dat, in turn, still finds his own style, giving this traditional national poetic form captivating colors:
+ Break the rhythm 6/3/5: "A year has passed since the promise you made to me / Time has gone by / The moon has grown thin and waning."(A year's missed appointment).
+ Break the rhythm 2/4/2/2/4: ""Let him carry the well water, and I'll carry the fish on the stormy night at the end of summer." (For him).
+ Break the rhythm 2/2/2/2:"Gone are the days / in white shirts / cherishing / purple ink / and sheets of / carbon paper" (For him)
+ Two-word poem: "He sits/As if drunk/looking at the sky/rain falling/somewhere/far away/hearing the/Wind howling/through the/vast region" (Wild Rain).
+ Four-word poem: "I lull you to sleep / One autumn morning / When you wake up / The golden leaves are swaying / I lull you to sleep / Winter has come / When you wake up / The sky is full of snow" (Lullaby for the Four Seasons.
Most notably, in the episodeTravelHữu Đạt has quite a few poems written in the form of jigsaw puzzles. This is a poetic form that requires not only sensitivity but also a certain level of linguistic knowledge. Perhaps Hữu Đạt has utilized that expertise. If I'm not mistaken, I remember that in French poetry, Baudelaire and Appolinaire wrote very distinctive pictorial poems. I wouldn't dare compare Hữu Đạt to these great poets, but it's undeniable that for someone just starting out in the field of poetry like Hữu Đạt to "dare" to explore innovative forms is truly rare. Looking at the image of the cups (Autumn Feelings, Wandering Wind), a pyramidal structure stacked on top of a diamond (Autumn afternoon), bow shape (Dream), arrow shape (Changing seasons( ), stacked pyramids (I dream of mountain towns.)...we can't help but feel a sense of joy. Even without reading the content to fully understand the meaning of the words in those interesting "pictures," at least visually, the poetry has brought us pleasure in a "visual age." Perhaps that's why I've noticed that, not only in the picture-based poems, but also in some other poems in the travelogue, we always find visual joy. The visual element in Huu Dat's poetry is very clear:
Your shoulder
chubby full moon
pursed lips
a virgin flower
Curved lines
gentle like handwriting
Draw a circle
winding through space
Long legs
like the red crane
step past
mud-naked
Soft hands
like a gentle caress
Burn your heart
those who are very passionate
It seems I've been rambling on too much while getting into this situation.TravelTogether with Huu Dat. Perhaps because it's been so long since I worked with and followed his literary journey, I was surprised to be treated to a unique and novel "dish" of my own by the "literary man" Huu Dat. And as is often the case when enjoying something new and unfamiliar, one easily becomes "intoxicated" and forgets how far one has gone. I don't know if what I've written resonates with any of Huu Dat's thoughts in this collection.TravelNo? But I believe what I wrote was entirely sincere in my appreciation of the achievements of my fellow student Huu Dat, whom I cherish.
Author:Tran Hinh
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