Dreams of a Butterfly

This blog contains materials originally intended for my school alumni -- from the Lycee Marie Curie in Saigon, Vietnam. It is by its original audience rather nostalgic and wistful, hence the butterfly, a reference to the well-known story by Zhuang Zi. The old boys and girls can sometimes, however, get quite academic and/or bawdy. The postings can be in English, French or Vietnamese. All postings are copyrighted. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

(English) Translation of Amis d'antan

Friends of yore
Tran Huu Duc

In the prime of youth,
They shared a classroom,
When full of promise,
The world was yet to bloom.

On a future so bright,
They set their common sight,
Heart buoyant with not a single worry:
Together, they'd set the world Free.

Free to dance and to rejoice
Around many a cornucopia,
Happy songs in a happy voice,
The country, the world is but a Utopia.

Suffering and misery? Banished!
As in yesteryear's math class,
When common factors all but vanished,
And the world was ruled by Pythagoras.

For algebra, they learned and knew;
Treachery and hate, to them were new.
Heinous violence, famine and shame
Waited for them: the world was yet to blame.

Heart buoyant with not a single worry,
The world they sowed with happiness.
Onward to tomorrow, heartbeat fluttery,
Their own love lost, in tenderness.



Would we ever ?
Luu thi Phuong Trinh

When the world glittered in promise
And chestnut trees stood in full bloom
You and I shared a classroom

Passionate and carefree
For a new world we would fight
On the bright future we set our sight
People sing and dance around
Tables warped under food mounds
Songs of hope, borders of peace
Shadows of war forever crushed
Sufferings and misery
Like common factors, off we brushed
In math classes ---early training fields

Algebra, we thoroughly knew
Hate and distress, we had no clue
Famine, violence, division and shame
Lurking around: who was yet to blame?

Passionate and carefree
The seeds of hope we burned to sow
For gentler worlds and brighter tomorrows
Yet tender love, would we ever know?

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