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.
River Snail -
詠屋𧋆
詠屋𧋆
博媄生𫥨分屋𧋆
𣎀𣈜粦𨀎盎𦹵灰
君子固傷辰扑𧞣
吀停𪭟𢭴魯𦟹碎
Vịnh ốc nhồi
Bác mẹ sinh ra phận ốc nhồi
Đêm ngày lăn lóc đám cỏ hôi,
Quân tử có thương thì bóc yếm
Xin đừng ngó ngoáy lỗ trôn tôi.
River Snail
Fate and my parents shaped me like a snail,
day and night wandering marsh weeds that smell foul.
Kind sir, if you want me, open my door.
But please don’t poke up into my tail.
Note
The river snail, inhabiting ponds and rice fields, is considered unpleasant and foul. <i>Bóc yếm</i> in line three means “remove covering,” punning on the word for the operculum (the glassy opening) of the snail and its homonym, a kind of brassiere worn by women of Hồ Xuân Hương’s time.