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With profuse quotations from Vietnamese poets of the twentieth century, Vo Thu Tinh's article discusses the modern poetry movement in Vietnam, whose banner was carried by the authors cited, against the backdrop of French occupation. From 1859 to 1883, France had completed the conquest of the Southern part of Vietnam as a colony, and in 1885 the North and Central regions became its "protectorates." In 1887 France established the French Indochinese Union, which included all the French-created regions of conquered Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. Vietnamese resistance to French colonialism, which did not take long to emerge, was ruthlessly suppressed. The French began the task of pacification and with it the establishment of colonial government, which they ran with the aid of a newly-educated Vietnamese administrative class in the French colonial civil service. Life under colonial rule was harsh, and extremely difficult for the majority of the Vietnamese, who were divided by region to foster a spirit of regionalism that presumably worked at loggerheads with the national consciousness and a concerted nationwide effort to overthrow French control. Yet the fight continued with the only weapon still available to Vietnamese poets, their pen, albeit a restricted and controlled one. The colonial authorities wasted no time to institute laws against sedition, and severely restricted freedom of any kind, notably freedom of expression. The French knew that the pen was mightier than the sword. While action-oriented patriots took up their arms against the French and paid dearly for their struggle, Vietnamese poets and writers quietly wielded the power of their ideas. It is ironic that the very institution of colonialism bore with it the seed of its own destruction. France could not govern its colonies without an indigenous elite schooled in French culture, administration, law, and politics. This indigenous educated class was in fact the very infrastructure upon which the French built its colonial empire, although the force of arms maintained a semblance of law and order. Among this local elite, many were bound to be angry, upon exposure to the ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity of the French Revolution of 1789, that the French had in fact paid lip service to these ideals when it came to their national interests. The concepts of freedom and democracy that Vietnamese came in contact with in local schools as well as in those in France did not fail to inflame Vietnamese patriotism; and it was only a matter of time when the French had to deal with the demands for independence, sovereignty, and freedom from the Vietnamese. By concluding his paper with a question mark, Vo Thu Tinh hesitantly advanced the thesis that the new poetry movement in Vietnam at the beginning of the twentieth century might just be the start of the socio-political revolution that culminated in an open armed struggle in the aftermath of World War II. He offered no direct link between the new poetry and the revolution that led to the demise of French colonial rule in Vietnam. However, even veiled allusions and hidden meanings in the poems unmistakably conveyed the spirit of resistance in spite of the colonial authorities' effort to stamp out any hint of seditious acts. There is sufficient material quoted herein to support the hypothesis that modern Vietnamese poetry helped keep the national spirit alive, under the guise of romanticism and even maudlin sentimentality. A curious mix of genuine expressions of anger and despair as well as of a spirit of abandon and hedonism born of hopelessness and powerlessness permeated the poetic and literary scenes of the days. Yet somehow the political consciousness and the national will of the Vietnamese never lost sight of their ultimate goal of ridding the country of foreign domination. This is an enduring underlying strength of the Vietnamese people throughout their history. I acknowledge with gratitude the tireless and diligent effort of my poet-friend, Giang N. Trinh, whose judgment and suggestions have guided me throughout the translation. Thomas D. Le
At the beginning of the 20th century, contact with the Western world, and the adoption of the Romanized national writing system (chu quoc ngu) brought about the unsettling and collapse of the solid cultural, social and literary traditions of our country. Everyday life as it impinged on outward manifestations, emotional responses and inner thought processes underwent a radical transformation among the population. Writers and poets suddenly realized they had to break free from the narrow Confucian tenet of "literature as a vehicle of virtue," and from the rigid demanding rules of prosody, especially those of the Duong model, to allow the flowering of vitality, authenticity, and richness in inspiration and expression. This realization is at the root of the new movement in poetry. The first shot of this revolutionary movement came in early 1914, when the Dong Duong Tap Chi (The Indochinese Journal), Issue No. 40, published in the national script a poem by Nguyen Van Vinh entitled "Con ve va con kien" (The Cicada and the Ant), which was a translation from La Fontaine's fable. Contemporaries quickly called it "new poetry" for its non-observance of any known existing rules of versification. A number of scholars took advantage of the new script to produce poems exhibiting tendencies of resistance against colonial tyranny, as demonstrated in works that ridiculed human foibles and social ills, or those that reminded the people of the current tragedy facing their country. Tan Da utilized the voice of Miss Chu Kieu Oanh, a character in the poem A Small Dream, to publicize and foster the development of the new genre of commentary on current events. "The ancients should know that literature has substantive value, and is not just for private enjoyment, giving pleasure by its virtuosity, but has implications for the people and society. A male citizen is not just a private individual; he also belongs to the four-thousand-year-old Hong Lac nation, now under a fifty-year rule by the protectorate authorities (1), to a society with 25 million people and a country of 340 thousand square ly (leagues)." However, Nguyen Van Vinh opposed this current-event trend in poetry in the Annam Nouveau (New Annam) magazine, on the grounds that the press is not a venue for poets to arouse patriotism, or to criticize or satirize the authorities. Poets should not engage in politics, instead should concentrate on cultural and educational issues only. Pressure from the colonial government succeeded gradually in driving these satirical and political trends underground. However, Tran Tuan Khai and a number of other poets continued to disguise a call to patriotism under systematic ambiguity, as in the poem Ganh nuoc dem (Drawing Well-water at Night) cited below: Em bu'ó'c chân ra
I stepped out
Notes:(a) Nu Oa, younger sister of an ancient king in China, who fabricated variegated stones to repair the heavens. This alludes to a person with great vision and an achiever of grand projects. (b) Da trang: a small species of crab living on the seashore (perhaps, a fiddler crab of the genus Uca) which digs burrows in the sand only to see them filled up by the waves washing ashore. The phrase cong da trang (da trang's labor) thus designates a useless, thankless task that can never be accomplished. [Translator's Note: The following quote from Infoplease.com, The Columbia Electronic Encyclopedia, Columbia University Press, best fits the description of the da trang: fiddler crab, common name for small, amphibious crabs belonging to the genus Uca. Some species of fiddler crabs live on sandy beaches that are somewhat protected from extreme wave action. Others live in muddy marshes and estuaries. The Uca species living on sandy beaches, such as the common Atlantic fiddler, U. pugilator, make burrows about 1 ft (30 cm) deep, just below the high tide line. The sand is carried to the surface by specialized legs of the crab, and pushed away from the entrance. Fiddler crabs are poor swimmers and rarely enter the water during their adult lives. During the spring and summer, the fiddlers remain in their burrows only during high tide periods. The entrances of the burrows are covered with sand, and the burrows contain a bubble of air, which the crabs use for respiration. When the tide ebbs, the fiddlers emerge and scurry about, collecting food in the drift lines left by the ebbing water. Both claws of the female and the smaller claw of the male are used to scoop up sand and pass the grains to the mouthparts. Certain specialized appendages (the first and second maxillipeds) have spoon-shaped setae, used to scour organic matter from the sand grains and pass it to the mouth. The sand grains are then rejected in the form of small sand balls. After mating, the female fiddler crab carries the fertilized eggs under her flexed abdomen.] Tan Da, in his narratives Small Dreams (1917), Small Love (1920), and other poems such as The Mountains' and the Rivers' Oath, On Tatters, continued his open intimations to the people about the country's plight: [Translator's Note: The effect of Tan Da's poem below resides in the metaphor he developed around the term "nuoc non," i.e., literally, waters and mountains, but more generally, the nation, the country. In this poem, he split the term and had one part of the "nation" talking to the other.] Nu'ó'c non na.ng mô.t lò'i thê`,
There is an oath between the waters and the mountains.
Only two literary trends were deliberately condoned or encouraged by the colonial authorities: The ethical strain was apolitical, and purely cultural and educational. Poets concerned themselves with historical narratives and commentaries as well as with children's education. For example, Tan Da belongs in this group with works such as Age Six and Age Eight . Nguyen Trong Thuat wrote fables to teach morals to children, impart a sense of national pride in their history, and preserve the dignity of the individual. The romantic strain given to sentimentality of all kinds laments the human condition in the face of fate, the Vietnamese people under tyranny and exploitation, and the country being trampled upon by foreign invaders. An overarching melancholy permeates the poets' consciousness and their works. Representative of this trend were Bà Tuong Pho, Tran Tuan Khai, Dong Ho, Tan Da in the journals and magazines with names like Huu Thanh, Annam Journal (Annam Tap Chi), Modern Woman (Phu Nu Tan Van), and South Wind (Nam Phong). It was not until 1932 that Phan Khoi really initiated the New Poetry movement with his publication in the Modern Woman of a poem titled, Elderly Love. Other magazines such as South Wind and Culture followed suit to foster the movement. Soon they were joined by The Megaphone (Loa), Modern Day (Nhat Tan), and Youth (Ban Tre), which published and advocated the new verse forms, flouting classical models. Nguyen Thi Kiem in Saigon and Luu Trong Lu in Hanoi raised the banner for the new poetry. In the period 1933-1934, poets from the Tu Luc Van Doan (The Self-Reliants) group added criticism and theoretical discussion of the new literary trend. Seeing that their rear-guard action became ineffectual, the "Ancients" began to change their tune, "There is no such thing as old or new poetry; there is only good or bad poetry." Works by The Lu, Luu Trong Lu, Vu Dinh Lien, Xuan Dieu, and others followed one another into the poetic arena. Ten years later, in 1942, in his volume on Vietnamese Poets Hoai Thanh showcased 40 of the most outstanding poets since 1932. From this moment on the new poetry and the new poets had become part of the history of Vietnamese literature. An issue of the journal Culture (Phong Hoa) of March 1932 loudly proclaimed, "Our poetry must be modern, modern in form, and modern in substance." Modern in Form. In form new poetry differs from old poetry. Old poetry follows fixed patterns whereas new poetry is completely free: each poem may contain any number of verses, any number of stanzas, with each stanza containing any number of words. Sáng nay tiê'ng chim thanh (5 words)
This morning with the mellow bird song
Doan Phu Tu (Màu Thò'i Gian, The Color of Time) Rhyme patterns of any kind was acceptable, and observed no specific rules. At first, though, the French rhyme patterns were followed, as in: Enveloping rhymes Chính hôm nay gió da.i ðê'n trên
ðô`i
Today the unruly wind came over the hill,
Xuan Dieu (Ta.ng Tho', Poetry Gift) Alternating rhymes Cu?a ong bu'ó'm nâ`y ðây tuâ`n tháng
mâ.t;
For bees and butterflies 'tis the honey season,
Xuan Dieu Rhythm too is different from before, especially with the use of enjambment: Hôm nay tôi ða~ chê't trong ngu'ò'i
Today I have died in the person
Xuan Dieu Though the new poetic paradigm drops most of the old rules, it still retains certain rhyme patterns to make it more enduring. In a 1942 discussion of rhyming patterns in the new poetry, Hoai Thanh noticed a tone alternation phenomenon that occurs very naturally in Vietnamese poems and cuts across all genres. He said, "...in a verse with several natural breaking points, the last word of each segment alternates in tone patterns with the last word of the next segment." (2). Thus, the bang B ( even, long) tone that ends one segment is followed by a trac T (uneven, clipped and short) tone that terminates the next segment, and so on: Gâ.m môt mô'i (T) cam hò'n (B) trong cu~i sát
(T)
My heart seethes with hatred, in the iron cage
The Lu (Nhó' Rù'ng, Yearning for the Jungle) Em không nghe mùa thu
Do you hear autumn, sweetheart,
Luu Trong Lu (Tiê'ng Thu, Sounds of Autumn) Lá ðào (B) ro'i rác (T) lô'i Thiên Thai (B)
Peach leaves carpet the path to Paradise.
Tan Da (Tô'ng Biê.t, Farewell to Paradise) Sometimes tone change occurs while rhyme does not: Duyên tram nam (B) ðú't ðoa.n (T)
The hundred-year bond of fate was severed,
Doan Phu Tu (Màu Thò'i Gian, The Color of Time) In his article, "Word Choice in The Old and New Poetry," (Culture, No. 63, October 1933), Nhat Linh maintained that "poets of the old school selected each word with care to insure appropriateness, euphony, word-for-word balance, and virtuosity. Poets of the new school also selected each word carefully for its ability to express their feelings most accurately, and its capacity to mirror faithfully the deepest stirrings of their soul." The innovation, which at first manifested itself by its rejection of the old poetic rules, came eventually to imitate the French model. "Partir c'est mourir un peu" (Leaving is dying a little) by Edmond Haraucourt gives rise to "Yêu là chê't trong lòng mô.t ít" (Loving is dying in the heart a little) by Xuan Dieu. Vaguely reminiscent of Félix Arvers' "N'osant rien demander et n'ayant rien recu" (Daring to ask for nothing, nothing to receive) is another of Xuan Dieu's lines, "Cho râ't nhiê`u, song nhâ.n cha?ng bao nhiêu" (You give a lot but receive so little). The language that appeared in the new poetry could have seemed irrational to readers of the period 1932-1945. Witness such phrases as, the sun goes to bed, bite into the spring season, a bundle of longings, a fascicle of love, the shouts of light, from Xuan Dieu: Ðêm nay la.nh ma.t trò'i ði ngu? só'm.
Ho'~i xuân hô`ng, ta muô'n cán vào
ngu'o'i.
Ðây chùm mong nhó', khóm yêu ðu'o'ng
Here is a bundle of longings, a fascicle of love.
In modern times, however, the mixing of disparate objects and emotions gives rise to a rich creative imagery. As André Breton wrote, in his Premier manifeste du surréalisme (The First Manifesto of Surrealism), "Images are pure creations of the mind. They do not spring from comparison, but from a juxtaposition of two unrelated realities. The more distant and genuine their relationship is, the stronger the imagery is, and the more it is endowed with emotive power and poetic reality." (3) Take this image from Xuan Dieu (Ca Tu.ng, Adoration): Trang vú mô.ng muôn ðò'i thi si~.
The moon's two breasts are the poet's eternal dream.
which seems to have come straight out of Beaudelaire's poem "Le balcon" (The Balcony). Elsewhere Xuan Dieu made a startling revelation: Tôi nhó' Rimbaud vó'i Verlaine
I recall Rimbaud and Verlaine.
Modern in Substance. As Paul Mus observed, "From Vietnam's inception, the main theme of its historical issues seems to reside precisely in the spirit of resistance that paradoxically unites astonishing capacities to assimilate and an unyielding national will in the face of defeats, dismemberments, and conquests." (5) At the beginning of the twentieth century, through contact with the West and in spite of it, our poets and writers manifested a spirit of opposition to French colonialism as well as to Chinese rules of versification, mingled with an attitude of receptivity towards the ideas of liberty and democracy, which came either indirectly through the new writings of Chinese thinkers such as Khang Huu Vy and Luong Khai Sieu, or directly through French literature, to seek modernization of society and the creation of the "new poetry." In the area of social modernization arose the Live Happy, Live Young movement among major urban areas, which embodied the young generation's rejection of their elders' antiquated ideas. At that time the new generations of educated men and women were fired up and encouraged by the return on 8 September 1932 of Bao Dai, a young French-educated king who had married Nguyen Thi Lan, who was also young and French-educated. She was a Catholic from a wealthy family in the South. On 10 September 1932, the king announced that "from now on I will reign with the cooperation of the people, in a constitutional monarchy, and will introduce necessary reforms in the civil service, education, and the judicial system." On 2 May 1933, he promulgated a decree to establish a new cabinet, headed by thirty-one-year-old Ngo Dinh Diem, who was appointed Minister of Rites and Secretary of the Joint Franco-Vietnamese Committee to study the reform measures announced earlier. Unfortunately, about four months later in November, Ngo Dinh Diem resigned citing "the French insistence on holding all powers to govern Vietnam directly." From then on, Bao Dai let the forty-one-year-old Pham Quynh take over the front stage. Because of the French's intentions, all reform efforts were stymied, and the king was relegated to a ceremonial role only. (6) In a separate development, the efforts to fight French colonialism mounted in the 1930's by the Viet Nam Quoc Dan Dang (Vietnamese Nationalist Party), which resulted in failure and the execution of 37 resistance fighters, including the 13 executed in Yen Bai, sent a strong shock wave around the country. The French heavy-handed crushing of revolts caused anguish, fear, despair and suspicion among the population. As part of their pacification strategy, the French promoted the Live Happy, Live Young movement mentioned above, to encourage the young generations to party, and enjoy life, thereby deflecting their attention away from the spirit of national resistance, and to clamp down on current-events literary creations with heavy censorship. All the hopes pinned on the young king had vanished into thin air. Vietnamese could express their feelings of despair and anger only through veiled allusions and melancholic writings. Witness: Rô`i ca? thò'i gian tan tác ðô?
Then there was the time of collapse
Che Lan Vien The bleak political situation paved the way for romanticism, which was the only escape hatch for poets and writers of the days. This is the romanticism of despair and anguish: Tram nam theo do~i áng mây trôi. For a hundred years I follow the floating clouds. The Lu Mo' theo trang và vo' vâ?n cùng mây. I dream with the moon and hang about the clouds. Xuan Dieu La.c giu'~a sao trò'i tôi vâ~n mê. Lost among the stars I go a-dreaming. Che Lan Vien Nàm gáng ða~ không thành mô.ng ðu'o'.c
Lingering in bed won't make dreams come true,
Han Mac Tu (Buô`n Thu, Autumn Sadness) Say ði em, say ði em,
Ðâ't trò'i nghiêng ngu'?a
Get drunk, get drunk, my dear,
Let earth and heaven teeter and totter,
Vu Hoang Chuong (Say �i Em, Get Drunk, Baby!) Dogging the steps of the moon, dreaming the moon, getting lost among the stars, reciting poetry to alleviate sadness, getting drunk to forget, forgetting everything, the walls of sorrow not crumbling... All the dark suffocating reality induced among poets a thirst for an escape. But escaping whereto? Ði, ði ...ði mãi no'i vô ði.nh
Go, go, go to some unknown place afar,
Han Mac Tu Ði cùng anh tó'i Cô Tô thành cu~,
Come with me to the old town of Co To,
Huy Thong Thú hô` bê? quyê'n mò'i du tu?
His wanderlust seduced the wanderer
Luu Trong Lu No matter where their steps led them, they could not forget the suffering of an enslaved people, of a people traumatized by fate. Sufferings and pains gave poets an opportunity to examine their "inner selves," to return to their own conscience, to fathom the depths and dark recesses of their psyche, where they confronted their own despair, and doubted the reason of their very existence, one which was characterized by self-doubt, loneliness, daze, and disorientation. Mô.t linh hô`n nho?
A small soul
Huy Can Ai ba?o dùm: Ta có, có Ta không? Please tell me: Am I or am I not? Che Lan Vien Chó' ðê? riêng em pha?i ga.p lòng em ! Don't you let your self meet your heart! Xuan Dieu Thô vu.ng quá, sám vai gì trên sân
khâ'u?
Too awkward to play a role on the stage,
Phan Khac Khoan Mênh mông ðâu ðo' ngoài vô tâ.n
Out in the infinite immensity
Vu Hoang Chuong In all circumstances the "self" became so powerless it did not even understand its own motives and emotions. Rô`i mô.t ngày mai tôi se~ ði
Then tomorrow I will set out.
Xuan Dieu (Vì Sao, Why?) Ai ðem phân châ't mô.t mùi hu'o'ng
Who'll ever want to analyze a scent,
Xuan Dieu (Vì Sao, Why?) Hôm nay trò'i nhe. lên cao,
Today the sun glides up the sky,
Xuan Dieu (Chiê`u, Eventide) It is often said that pre-war poets gravitated only around the topic of love, and were given completely to lamenting their tortured romantic "self." But suffering is the teacher of human existence, and the tragedy of love helps them to gain a deeper understanding of the meaning of life, and to feel a need to express their hidden, repressed emotions in the literature and poetry, leading to a romantic attitude and highly lyrical and individualistic stance. At the same time, there was felt a need to express the misfortune of the ordinary folks. Trò'i ho'~i! Nhò' ai cho kho?i ðói,
Good heavens! Who do we turn to to ease hunger ?
Han Mac Tu Nô~i ðò'i co' cu'.c ðang gio' vuô't
Life's misery bares its claws,
Xuan Dieu Mô~i lâ`n câ`m bút nói van chu'o'ng
Every time the urge to write arises,
Nguyen Vy (Gu'?i Tru'o'ng Tu'?u, To Truong Tuu) And if the poets felt the need to voice the pains and sufferings of a subjugated people in poetry, they had to do so in a veiled, indirect fashion so as to avoid the colonial authorities' reprisals and imprisonment. N�n ðau thu'o'ng, vu'o'ng ngâ.m ngùi se~ kê?
Let's silence the smarting pain to recount
Huy Thong (Tiê'ng Ði.ch Sông Ô. The Flute of River O) On the esthetic value of poetry, The Lu had made an enduring statement in The Versatile Instrument (Cây Ðàn Muôn Ðiê.u) thus: Tô i chi? là mô.t khách tình si
I am but a lovesick man,
The Lu (Cây Ðàn Muôn Ðiê.u, The Versatile Instrument) To The Lu, the object of poetry is Beauty. Poetry is where painting and music converge in their respective pursuit of beauty, which poets celebrate: from the quiet, innocent beauty of emotions to the sublime and grand beauty of nature, of language, and of philosophy. Yet for all its dreamy and detached nature, poetry has to seek its materials from the earthy, workaday life: Vó'i nàng Tho' tôi có ðàn muôn ðiê.u
With my Muse I have an instrument of a thousand melodies.
The Lu (Cây Ðàn Muôn Ðiê.u, The Versatile Instrument) Such a conception of poetry, encapsulated in a few concise lines, still carries a valuable message today. Legally and openly, the new poets, through the agency of the Xuan Thu Nha Tap (The Spring and Autumn Review) (1941), promoted complete freedom of expression. The new poetry demands liberty, and demands the emancipation of the self in poetry. In former times, Vietnamese poets used the "self" in their lamentation and self-pity. Nghi~ mình la.i thêm thu'o'ng nô~i mình. The more I think about myself, the more I pity myself. Cung Oan Giâ.t mình, mình la.i thu'o'ng mình xót xa! All of a sudden I feel pain for my sorry lot! Kieu Tôi ngô`i tôi nghi~ cái tha`ng tôi. Sitting here I think about my poor self. Tu Xuong The first "self" refers to the collective self, the second "self" to the objective self, and the third to the subjective self. To define the self's proud position in the universe, Nguyen Cong Tru declared: Ngã kim nhâ.t ta.i to.a chi ði.a
Where I am sitting now
It was so in the past and will be so in the future through time; man is neither Buddha or immortal nor phantom in space. The self in the ancient poets was face to face with a mystical fate, amid boundless space and time. Whether their soul was in a tragic or heroic state, it was immersed in the hidden self, submerged in the collectivity, the family, and the nation. But the self in the new poets sheds its breadth in favor of depth. Today's poets dig deep into their own consciousness in search of understanding while analyzing and exposing the most profound recesses of the self. Exposing the poet's feelings is tantamount to expressing those of the readers, of the masses. As Victor Hugo said, "When I talk about myself, I talk to you about yourself. How can you avoid knowing it?" And Paul Valery chimed in, "You are insane who think I am not you." (7) The state of mind of the Vietnamese people of the days was one of anger and extreme discontent over their country's foreign occupation. Yet under colonial rule, poets and writers were not at liberty to discuss social and political issues. So they resorted to indirect allusions to the misery of the people, and to brilliant military exploits on the battlefield whose splendor and glory outshone anything else. Henri Lemaitre, in his Poésie depuis Beaudelaire (Poetry Since Beaudelaire), thought that in a historical conjuncture when society comes into conflict with the individual, who has gained an awareness of his self, and his social environment, "the poet identifies poetry with revolt." (8). George Jean in La Poésie likewise affirms, "The revolt of the oppressed peoples has often started as a revolt in poetry." (9) Is the new poetry movement a revolt, a revolution? Did this poetic revolution contribute significantly to the effort to emancipate the Vietnamese people? Did the fight for freedom and the liberation of the self gradually spread to the social and political arenas from literature and poetry? Paris, 2001
Notes
(1) Tan Da added this segment to appease the colonial authorities.
(2) Hoai Thanh, Vietnamese Poets, Hanoi, 1942, p. 41.
(3) André Breton, Premier manifeste du surréalisme. "L'image est une création pure de l'esprit. Elle ne peut naître d'une comparaison mais du rapprochement de deux réalités éloignées. Plus le rapport de deux realités seront lointaines et justes, plus l'image sera forte, plus elle aura de puissance émotive et de réalité poétique." (Quoted by Jean-Louis Joubert, from La poésie, Paris, Armand Colin, 1988, pp. 45-46.) (4) Thuy Khe, The Structure of Poetry, "Literature", 1995, p.87.
(5) Paul Mus, Vietnam, Sociologie d'une guerre. "Dès que commence le Vietnam, le maître-mot de ses problèmes historiques paraît justement se trouver dans cet esprit de résistance qui associe, de façon paradoxale, à d'étonnantes facultés d'assimiliation, une irréductibilite nationale à l'épreuve des défaites, des démembrements et des conquêtes."
(6) Bao Dai, Le Dragon d'Annam, Paris, Plon, 1980, pp. 33-61.
(7) Victor Hugo, Contemplations, Préface: "Quand je parle de moi, je vous parle de vous. Comment ne le sentez-vous pas?" Paul Valéry: "Insensé qui crois que je ne suis pas toi."
(8) Henri Lemaître, La poésie depuis Beaudelaire: La poésie en conflit, Paris, Armand Colin, 1993, p. 9. "En conflit avec la société, le poète identifie poésie et révolte."
(9) Georges Jean, La Poésie, Paris, Seuil, 1966, p. 148.
"La révolte des peuples opprimés a été souvent d'abord une révolte poétique."
Final Translator's Note, courtesy Giang N. Trinh: The quotations in this article may be found in the following works: 1. Trâ`n Tuâ'n Kiê.t , Thi Ca Viê.t Nam Hiê.n Ða.i , Volume I, Nhà Xuâ't Ba?n Sô'ng Mó'i, Garden Grove, CA 2. Thi ca Viê.t Nam cho.n lo.c, Tho' Tình Xuân Diê.u, Kiê`u Vân gió'i
thiê.u, Nhà Xuâ't Ba?n Ðô`ng Nai, 1996.
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