Mưa Xuân
NGUYỄN BÍNH
Em là con gái trong khung cửi
Dệt lụa quanh năm với mẹ già
Lòng trẻ còn như cây lụa trắng
Mẹ già chưa bán chợ làng xa.
Bữa ấy mưa xuân phơi phới bay
Hoa xoan lớp lớp rụng vơi đầy
Hội chèo làng Đặng đi ngang ngõ
Mẹ bảo: "Thôn Đoài hát tối nay".
Lòng thấy giăng tơ một mối tình
Em ngừng thoi lại giữa tay xinh
Hình như hai má em bừng đỏ
Có lẽ là em nghĩ đến anh.
Bốn bên hàng xóm đã lên đèn
Em ngửa bàn tay trước mái hiên
Mưa chấm bàn tay từng chấm lạnh
Thế nào anh ấy chả sang xem!
Em xin phép mẹ, vội vàng đi
Mẹ bảo xem về kể mẹ nghe.
Mưa bụi nên em không ướt áo
Thôn Đoài cách có một thôi đê.
Thôn Đoài vào đám hát thâu đêm
Em mải tìm anh chả thiết xem
Chắc hẳn đêm nay giường cửi lạnh
Thoi ngà nằm nhớ ngón tay em.
Chờ mãi anh sang anh chẳng sang
Thế mà hôm nọ hát bên làng
Năm tao bảy tuyết anh hò hẹn
Để cả mùa xuân cũng nhỡ nhàng!
Mình em lầm lũi trên đường về
Có ngắn gì đâu một dải đê!
Áo mỏng che đầu mưa nặng hạt
Lạnh lùng thêm tủi với canh khuya
Bữa ấy mưa xuân đã ngại bay
Hoa xoan đã nát dưới chân giày
Hội chèo làng Đặng về ngang ngõ
Mẹ bảo: "Mùa xuân đã cạn ngày".
Anh ạ! Mùa xuân đã cạn ngày
Bao giờ em mới gặp anh đây?
Bao giờ hội Đặng đi ngang ngõ
Để mẹ em rằng hát tối nay?
(Trích; Thơ Tiền Chiến - tuyển thơ nhiều tác giả -
Đồng Nai xuất bản - trang 26-27)
The Spring drizzles
English version by NGUYỄN HỮU LÝ
I am just a girl of the loom
I weave silk-cloths round the year with my old mom
My young age heart is still like an immaculate silk-cloth roll
That my mom haven't sold yet at any distant village's market
One day, when the spring drizzles were likely sprayed in cold breezes
The china-trees' flowers were again and again falling down, scattered all over the ground
The Dang-village's traditional operetta group happened to go past our communal entrance
My mom said: "The West - hamlet will have a performance, this evening"
For my heart was ever entangled in my secret love
I stopped moving my shuttle, held it in my pretty hands
Probably my cheeks were all blushing
Perhaps I was thinking about him
Our all-around neighboring houses' lamps were already lighted on
I turned my hand upward in front of the verandah
Each raindrop touched my palm, instantly formed on it a tiny cold spot
Anyhow, he would have tried to go there and attend the show
After asking permission from mom, I rushed out of home
She reminded me tell her the show - story later than my return
It was only a little spray - like drizzle out there, so my clothes did not get wet
Otherwise, the West - hamlet was from home just only a short portion of the dyke
It was then the grand - opening performance at the West - hamlet that the show was lasting throughout the night
I eagerly kept looking for him, disregarding the show
Certainly my loom was left in the cold all that night
And in my ivory shuttle lying there, was missing my fingers!
I was trying to wait for him to come, but he did not come!
However, on the other day, when there was a performance at his village
Time and time again, he insisted on having an appointment with me...
Finally, he already let this whole spring slip away too (with the appointment)!
Absolutely alone, I was terribly depressed on my way home!
No longer short at all was that dawned portion of the long dyke!
Having just one thin coat to cover my head in the heavy rain
I felt cold, self-pitiful as well, throughout that long night!
Another day, when the spring drizzles seemed reluctant to be sprayed
The china-trees' flowers were all crushed under pedestriams' shoes
The same Dang-village's traditional operetta group returned across our entrance
My mom said: "This spring has been running out of its days"!
Darling! This spring has been running out of its days
So, when will I meet you again?
And when will the Dang's group pass by the entrance again
In order for my mom to say: "There will be a performance, this evening"?