Hồ Xuân Hương—whose name means “Spring Essence”—is one of the most distinctive and influential female poets in the history of Vietnamese literature. As a woman living in a Confucian society full of constraints, she asserted her voice through extraordinary poetic talent. Her poems, composed in the elegant form of classical Chinese lu-shih, are bold in content, employing double entendre and erotic innuendo to deliver sharp critiques of gender inequality, hypocrisy, and societal norms of her time.
The publication of Spring Essence marks a major milestone in introducing Hồ Xuân Hương’s poetry to international audiences. The work is presented in a tri-graphic format—featuring English translations, modern quốc ngữ Vietnamese script, and chữ Nôm, the calligraphic writing system once used to record the Vietnamese language for over a millennium. This is also the first time that chữ Nôm has been printed using moveable type, opening new possibilities for the recovery of a vital part of Vietnam’s linguistic and literary heritage.
The translator, John Balaban, a two-time finalist for the National Book Award, is one of the foremost American scholars of Vietnamese literature. He returned to Vietnam after the war to document oral poetry traditions—a groundbreaking endeavor that helped preserve Vietnam’s vernacular literary culture. Supporting the project is Ngô Thanh Nhàn, a computational linguist at New York University, who digitized the ancient Nôm script and made possible the technical foundation for this important publication.
Open access for educational and research purposes; commercial use prohibited.
Lament for Commissioner Cóc -
哭翁總𧋉
哭翁總𧋉
払𧋉喂払𧋉喂
妾𤊰緣払固世催
𧓅𰲾坦𡳪徐低𠰚
𠦳鐄坤贖唒杯𪿙
Khóc ông tổng Cóc
Chàng Cóc ơi! Chàng Cóc ơi!
Thiếp bén duyên chàng có thế thôi.
Nòng nọc đứt đuôi từ đấy nhỉ
Nghìn vàng khôn chuộc dấu bôi vôi.
Lament for Commissioner Cóc
Oh, Cóc! Oh, dear. Oh, dear Cóc !
All we had together came down to this:
the tadpole’s lost his tail. A pile of gold
cannot restore his pale painted warts
Note
In the original, the poem begins as a peasant funeral lament, in the style still sung todaỵ Hồ Xuân Hương is mocking her dead husband by punning on his name Cóc, or “Toad”. Maurice Durand (<i>L’ Œuvre de la poétesse vietnamienne Hồ Xuân Hương</i> [Paris: Adrien-Maisonneuve, 1968], p. 160) says that line three is also an entire pun indicating “<i>relations sexuelles ininterrompues</i>” and suggesting that all they had going in this husband-concubine relationship was sex. A further pun may lie in the echo to <i>cóc vàng</i>, or “golden toad,” a phrase for someone rich but stupid. Clearly, this was a marriage of convenience. Durand also notes a further echo in the proverb:<br>
<br>
Thà rằng chết mất thì thôi.<br>
Sống còn như cóc bôi vôi lại về.<br>
<br>
Just die and get it over with.<br>
Alive, we look like the toad come back covered in lime.<br>