Missing you, in the hometown song...

(Baonghean) - Sen Village, May. There was a festival season to celebrate His birthday, amidst the excitement of the parade, amidst the brilliant colors of flags and flowers, amidst the bustling sounds of gongs and drums, I suddenly realized a Nam Dan that was flourishing, but still peaceful and heartwarming, when a Vi tune was sung on stage with the smooth voice of an artist.

I suddenly felt choked up. As if amidst the urgency of today’s life, the vi verse is “the river’s waves calling us home”. I remember Uncle Ho, the story “before he left”. I imagine his longing and desire at that moment: to hear a vi verse! Like many children of Nghe An, Uncle Ho was born and raised by vi giam. His whole life of selflessly fighting for national independence was also to protect the good, warm and peaceful things like vi giam. And when he left, he wanted to be immersed in that melody. Vi giam was the place where he was born, and also the place where he longed to return. Vi giam was his homeland!

That homeland, as familiar as any other homeland, has rows of tall areca trees in front of the yard; a fence of red hibiscus flowers; a well with clear water source, a bamboo screen to shade the sun in front of the porch. Many times, I stood still in front of the hammock, feeling as if it was swaying in the wind. Is it true that, years ago, that hammock followed the swinging arm of a hard-working mother, so that from her kind and loving chest, a lullaby could be sung. Mother lulled Kieu, Mother lulled Chinh Phu Ngam, Mother lulled with vi and giam…

Under the roof of Lang Sen communal house. Photo: Tran Hai

That homeland, where he spent his childhood, still seems to have the sound of the kite flute on Chung Mountain. There was a young man who “followed the guild to listen to singing, rolled up his knees and stood at the front of the yard” on nights when the guild was in pain, feeling the pain of the people losing their country and suffering.

Surely, in the journey far from home, following the burden of his mother when he went to Hue with his father, or later, on the ship drifting to find a way to save the country, the folk songs of his hometown, the lullabies of his mother as a child were a burning nostalgia in his heart. Later, our Uncle - when he had become an outstanding politician, in international diplomatic dealings or in important speeches, still occasionally recited Kieu flexibly, wittily and profoundly such as: "Tiến dua nho ngay hom nay / The solidarity love is getting deeper and deeper" or: "A hundred years in this world / The righteous side will surely win, the evil side will surely lose". Hearing artist Minh Hue of the Military Region 4 Performing Arts Troupe sing to celebrate his 79th birthday, when she sang the lullaby: "Ru em, em ngủ cho muội", Uncle corrected it: "Ru tam, tam théc cho muội". After years of wandering abroad with fluency in many foreign languages, Uncle Ho still kept his deep Central accent like the breath of the countryside. And before leaving, he wanted to hear a folk song…

Dear Uncle! The folk song that lulled you back then has become a typical intangible cultural heritage recognized by the world. That heritage has been and is being preserved and spread. On every occasion of your birthday, the "Sen Village Singing Festival" is held, hoping to offer you the songs of your homeland. And Sen Village - our common homeland today is bustling with excitement and nostalgia with footsteps returning. As the poet Xuan Hoai wrote: "Suddenly hearing voices from hundreds of regions / When I step into Sen Village, Chua Village... / The footsteps of friends from all over the world / Standing close together, close together this way". Which verse is sung, making the May lotus scent bloom on the land of Nghe An, dry and windy, but also beautiful and dreamy like the moonlight of a night in the fabric quarter...

PV