CÄm s¡t vì sao ngÛ thÆp huyŠn
M‡i dây m‡i trø, nh§ hoa niên
Trang Chu tÌnh m¶ng, mÖ hÒ ÇiŒp
V†ng Ç‰ lòng xuân, gªi ñ‡ quyên
Træng sáng bi‹n xanh, châu Ç° lŒ
Khói vÜÖng n¡ng Ãm, ng†c Lam ÇiŠn
Tình này s§m tåo niŠm nhung nh§
Là bu°i ÇÀu tiên, chút n‡i niŠm.
Vain are the jeweled zither's fifty strings.
Each string, each stop, bears thought of vanished things.
The sage of his loved butterflies day-dreaming,
The king that sighed his soul into a bird.
Tears that are pearls, in ocean moonlight streaming;
Jade mists the sun distils from Sapphire Sward.
What need their memory to recall today ?
A day was theirs, which is now passed away.
Courtesy anh NguyÍn TrÜ©ng Lâm.