C¦m S¡t
C¦m s¡t vì sao ngû th§p huy«n
M²i dây m²i trø, nh¾ hoa niên
Trang Chu tïnh mµng, m½ h° ði®p
V÷ng ðª lòng xuân, g·i в quyên
Trång sáng bi¬n xanh, châu ð± l®
Khói vß½ng n¡ng ¤m, ng÷c Lam ði«n
Tình này s¾m tÕo ni«m nhung nh¾
Là bu±i ð¥u tiên, chút n²i ni«m.
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
Nguyn Tr߶ng Lâm.