VIETNAM: My Beloved Nation, the Up-Surging Phoenix from the Scorching Day of 30 April 1975

Hoang Huu Phuoc, MIB


[ Dưới đây là nguyên tác bài viết tiếng Anh của tôi tại blog Aspiration của tôi trên Yahoo!3600 ngày 01-8-2006 (sau đó đăng lại cả hai bài tiếng Anh và tiếng Việt trên Emotino ngày 09-4-2009, và đăng thêm trên ngày 31-8-2011 – cả hai blog này đều ngưng hoạt động – và tái đăng trên WordPress này ngày 01-9-2014). Tựa đề gốc của bản tiếng Anh là “VIETNAM: My Beloved Nation, the Up-Surging Phoenix from the Scorching Day of 30 April 1975” và tên của bản dịch nghĩa tiếng Việt là “VIỆT NAM: Đất Nước Kính Yêu Của Tôi – Cánh Phượng Hoàng Vút Bay Cao Từ Ngày 30/4/1975 Rực Lửa”. Bài này đã nhận được sự ca ngợi từ một chính trị gia Mỹ và một nhà báo Pháp lão thành như chi tiết ghi tại bài Ngày Chiến Thắng 30-4-1975.

Bài đã được viết nhân những ngày quan trọng của tháng 4, trong đó có ngày Chiến Thắng 30-4 và 6 ngày sinh nhật (cùng tuổi Aries) của Ba của tôi, anh rể ở Mỹ của tôi, em trai của tôi, em gái út ở New Zealand của tôi, vợ của tôi, và tôi, Hoàng Hữu Phước – những con người dữ dội tài ba mạnh mẽ nhất của Hoàng Gia luôn nổi tiếng nhất và bất khả chiến bại tại tất cả các cơ quan mà chúng tôi học tập, làm việc, hay phục vụ.]

VIETNAM: My Beloved Nation, the Up-Surging Phoenix from the Scorching Day of 30 April 1975

Hoang Huu Phuoc, MIB


Vietnam is my beloved country. Without his/her own country, one resembles an eternally wandering homeless soul.

I am over-proud to be a Vietnamese, of course not from any blind patriotism. It is the home even Death can never detach my heart from – even with his powerful bloody scythe.

Vietnam can be good. It can be not so good. It can be bad. It can be not so bad. And only lazy blokes, who sit still in the dark corners of mosquito-habitation cafes with legs senselessly jerking and jarring and jolting underneath the cheap small tables shouldering upon themselves glasses with or without ice-cubes, patiently waiting for drop by drop of dubious-quality coffee falling from tiny holes of cheap percolators, curse the negative, if any, and the wrong, if any, and the one-thousand-and-one bad-and-worse-and-worst, if any, of this country the name of which has incorporated within its very self the meaning of pride and honour and efforts and valour and volition, all up surging from real blood, true ashes, and factual heroic deeds.

I was born in Saigon, and ever since my first day to welcome life and life to welcome my coming-into-being have not relocated my residence elsewhere in this world. On that eventful day of 30 April 1975, my parents were calm enough to advise their children to sit down on the floor, patiently waiting for a peaceful apocalypse to come. I sat near the closed window, thinking of whether my sweat heart Dinh Thi Mai Tram was still there at her home on Chi Lang Street of Gia Dinh, Saigon, or already followed the terrified and terrifying people rushing to the Saigon ports to flee the country by waterways to the unfriendly open sea. I did not have any thought of fear. Just a sheer happiness to be safe with the family and to witness the ending of the war which gnawed at the bones and was soaked with blood of almost all my friends who were not as lucky as I was in successfully completing studies for universities and thereupon had to join the collapsing patched-up army of Nguyen Van Thieu the desperado, just to lay down for good on battlefronts on their very first days in operation, with rifles held firm in the thin hands accustomed to holding pens to compose fervid poems of love and hope and desire to live a decent life in peace, not war.

My family had no one being cadre or member of the Communist Party who led the liberation of South Vietnam to a final triumph. But we are proud of being Vietnamese and this pride has helped our family to stand firm against the vicissitudes a country at war and in its post-war era could bring and create. At the time the unified Vietnam suffered untold hardship from the cruel US embargo, whenever I went abroad I proudly attached the Vietnam’s flag on my luggage and various items. I was upset to be advised by senior leaders of State corporations who were of course communist party members that I should remove such flag to avoid problems from overseas anti-communist Vietnamese in Thailand and other “capitalist” countries. I did not say anything, simply proving I respected them the elders and the VIPs, but I never took their advice. The Vietnam’s flag must be with me, wherever I go in this triple we (www, or the wild wide world).

Until now I am an outsider to the Communist Party of Vietnam. All my efforts to get its membership were spoilt by the management of any academic institution or trading or servicing companies I worked at, at seeing my becoming a communist could endanger their senior positions. I was such a great haunting to them. However, I have never railed against my country and its government and the Communist party, simply because I understand very well that the disastrous war did not provide sufficient time for these senior cadres to properly study and be educated of Confucius’ philosophy – beside Marxism-Leninism and President Ho Chi Minh’s teaching – for a proper awareness of social responsibilities, national responsibilities, and patriotic responsibilities. What I can do is to encourage my brother and my sisters and the younger generations of the family to strive to be communists themselves, for having a proper saying in favour of the nation of Vietnam, the only country of my only nationality. We go global on a boat. We cannot go global with one leg in a boat and the other leg in another boat. That is the work of circus people. The only music I could listen to includes the Western Country music and Hard Rock. Frankly, I must say folk-songs, music of the South during the war – Trinh Cong Son’s not excluded, and the present-day music of Vietnam are not of my tastes. I write everything and compose poems in English. But all these do not mean anything against my pride of being a Vietnamese citizen in this globalized world.

If this country is still immersed in undesirable ocean of problems, I can say the blaming could be on me personally, for my unsuccessful contribution to provide any effective consulting to the government to make the country better. Whether it is the prosperity or depauperization of the country, even hoi polloi take the responsibility for either of such, let alone the so-called academically well-educated who if either running amok to provoke or orchestrate campaigns of civil disobedience or riots against the communist government or sitting still to enjoy life with mouth blabbering words of complaining of, throwing odium on, criticizing, scorning, and denigrating the communist regime would be much inferior to hoi polloi themselves.

Vietnam is my country, and I am proud to be a righteous Vietnamese.

Hoang Huu Phuoc, MIB, Hochiminh City, Vietnam

Hoàng Hữu Phước, Thạc-sĩ Kinh-doanh Quốc-tế, Nhà Lập-Hiến & Lập-Pháp Nước Cộng-Hòa Xã-Hội Chủ-Nghĩa Việt-Nam Khóa XIII, Nhà Tư-Tưởng Cộng-Sản Dân-Tộc Thiên Khổng, Nhà Hùng-Biện Chính Đạo, Thi-Nhân Bảo-Giang (Bảo-vệ Giang-san), Văn-Gia Lăng-Tần (Ca-lăng-tần-già), Thi-Bá Tannhäuser Beowulf Thor, Khắc-Tinh Của Báo-Chí Chính-Thống Việt-Nam Phản Đảng

Tham khảo:

Nhân Quốc Khánh Nước Nhà, Tải Đăng Lại Bài Viết Song Ngữ Anh & Việt Trước Đây Về Đất Nước  01-9-2014

Ngày Chiến Thắng 30-4-1975.  11-4-2014

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