ABOUT MY LOST FRIEND NHIEN TAT NGUYEN

A Memoir by Thy Le Trang

A Translation by Phuoc Khac Nguyen

My heart always feels regretful whenever I think about the memories of my student days or when I hear someone mention the names of my close friends who have passed away.

I know that Nhien Tat Nguyen (Nguyễn Tất Nhiên) passed away a long time ago. I planned to write about him many times, but I kept hesitating... hesitating ... then I couldn't do it, partly because of busy work, partly because I was reluctant to hold the pen again. I often complain to my friend Little Hong that because I haven't written for a long time, my literature can be as dry as my age.

Although Hai Hoang Nguyen (Hai Hoang Nguyen is Nhien Tat Nguyen's real name) and I attended the same Ngo Quyen High School, we often met at another place: Huynh Hiep bookstore. At that time, we both were in the Sixth Grade. During my childhood, I liked to write poetry and wished to become a poet. I tried hard to write for teen magazines such as Tuoi Xanh, Tuoi Tre, Tuoi Hoa, La Xanh... under different pseudonyms. Therefore, every afternoon, I often went to Huynh Hiep bookstore to buy magazines from Saigon. So did Nguyen. We quickly paid for the magazines and eagerly opened them to read, wondering whether our articles were publised or still in the waiting section. As usual, some were published, some others were not answered, but we all were happy anyway because school-age children cherished numerous dreams and hopes as ever.

Studying while writing poetry and hanging out were my High School days. Many people amazedly wondered how I could keep my poetic and romantic spirit while hanging out with my boisterous friends known as “Ngu Quy” (Five Devils, a nickname). Nguyen often asked that question. Many times when he met me at school. As soon as he was about to boast of a newly written poem or a short story, Little Ba pulled me away and glared at him menacingly. He just chuckled, then clasped his hands to bow a few times and left.

The school year of the Fourth Grade (Freshman in the USA) was the most memorable time for me. Even though I was busy completing a spring magazine for the Fourth Grade 3, I also participated in submitting articles for the Spring Magazine of Ngo Quyen School. I was really happy and proud when my article was awarded the first prize in literature by the teacher council, equal to an article written by a student from the First Grade (Senior). I don't remember his name, only remember his flowery sentence: "My kite began to grow thorns in my soul, flying with sorrow soaked with tears in a dream". Because during that time of the year, the bead tree flowers were blooming, but his father still did not return. The prizes for my article: a book of poems by Thien Cong Pham and a Chinese fountain pen.

At the end of the year, the atmosphere of Ngo Quyen School was very exciting. To prepare for the school's performance, Nguyen went to each class to find a female role to play with him in a comedy he wrote and directed. When he came to my class, he was acutely embarrassed by my classmates at the first table. My 4th Grade class was famous for many very studious students, but outside of school hours, they were also as vivacious as anyone. Getting rid of the tough questions, frowning and complaining, he went down to the last table where I was sitting. He said, “Too bad, too bad, I can't find anyone suitable for a role in my play. Please help me.” I asked, “What kind of role is it that is too difficult to find an actor to play?” “The role of a bad-tempered woman who often bullies her husband,” Nguyen answered. Sitting next to me, Little Ba opened her mouth and asked, “Am I bad-tempered enough to play the role?” “Oh, very well.” He was overjoyed with a smile on his face.

Ba and Luu forced him to accept one condition: After each play, he had to give each of us a cup of iced green beans and cakes and a ticket from Bien Hung Cinema. For the play to be a success, he nodded in agreement. It was a kind of Phi Thoan comedy, about a city dweller whose wife was as fierce as a Ha Dong lion. He was afraid of his wife but didn’t want to lose face in front of his brother. Once his brother from the countryside came for a visit, he begged his wife to pretend to play the role of an obedient wife. The wife initially agreed. But the husband's request was so ridiculous that the wife was unable to accept it. In the end, the wife gave her husband a good beating.

Of course, Nguyen played the husband, Little Ba played the wife and a boy classmate from Nguyen's class played the brother. I was assigned the task of a prompter. The first week went smoothly, all went well. Nguyen happily gave each of us a bowl of green beans and a cinema ticket. At that time, Bien Hung Theater showed films in the morning, and a cai luong musical theater troupe performed at noon. Luu had a strong passion for performing arts, the private lives of artists and actors, so she knew them by heart. With her excessively curious nature, Luu lured us all into the backstage to see the artists' faces. At first, Nguyen refused, but then he also joined us for fun.

We chatted with the artists My Chau, Minh Phung and even asked them for their photos and signatures. I noticed that Nguyen had an artistic mind and a sense of humour. During the rehearsal, he used to tell jokes to make us laugh. Until now - forty years have passed - but I still remember the image of him and Little Ba chasing each other and running around in the classroom where we practised our drama; or the scene where he held his stomach while laughing and shaking his head when making Little Luu swear.

Near the day of the performance, Nguyen’s friend gave up, which made him lament and sigh with his distorted face. Little Ba also lost her interest because she was afraid of not having the opportunity to perform in front of the audience such as her teachers and her friends. I was so embarrassed that I had to make sacrifices: “Let me play the role,” I said. My hoarse voice was good enough to play a man, but what about my long hair? That could be resolved immediately. Because I played the role of a man from the countryside who went to the town, I had to wear traditional costumes with a long dress and a turban, so my hair was curled up and hidden inside them. Playing this role was not difficult because I was a prompter, so I already knew the play by heart. I didn’t know what Nguyen and Ba’s feelings were, but I was so nervous that my legs were shaking. As soon as I stepped on the stage, I heard the audience roar with laughter perhaps because of the beard Mr. Hai drew on my face. Fortunately, thanks to my grandfather's glasses, I couldn't see anything below the stage. Thanks to that, I regained my spirit and acted very naturally.

The performance was successful. All of my friends praised me. Little Luu loudly made a posive comment, “Oh my god, you guys acted so funny. Ms. Bich Loan Ha, who is known as a difficult teacher, also laughed to tears.” Nguyen gave her a thumbs-up sign, raising his eyebrows to show his pride. Litle Ba patted him on the shoulder, “Next time, will you please remember to invite me to take part in your play, OK?” Nguyen clasped his hands in front of his chest, bowed his head, “Oh my Buddha! I'm afraid of women.” “Why are you afraid? You have lot of fun hanging out with us,” Ba said. “Yes, it's fun but it's too expensive… Bye...bye...”

In the shool year of the Third Grade (Sophomore), Nguyen and the members of White Cloud, Dinh Thien Phuong, Hoang Thy Linh, Da Ta – The literature and poetry clubs - met at my home. I had read the journal Mach Tho many times, but I had never met the editors before. It was a handwritten journal that was passed around among literarure lovers. I liked the "Debris and Quiet Days" section. The title also sounded cute. Who of us in daily life did not have pieces of thought to share? I was very happy to join Mach Tho Group.

Nguyen often came to my house alone to brag about new poems or talk about future plans. Many people said that he was sometimes hot-tempered, easy to get angry. I hadn't seen him in those situations so I didn't know; I only knew that sometimes he was silly like a child. At that time, the television in South Viet Nam often showed Charlot’s silent films at noon on weekends. He came to my house when everyone was watching a movie, all the doors were closed. He didn't call, just quietly opened a window, stood hugging the mullions and watched the movie passionately. Whenever there were the attractive scenes, he waved his hands and laughed so loud that he was thought to be suffocating. When the movie ended, he just went inside the house. Since then, my younger brother nicknamed him 'Stop Breathing'. Whenever he saw him from afar, he squealed loudly, “ “‘Stop Breathing’ is coming, Cuc.”

Apparently, in the First Grade school year, Mr. Hai was the head of the press department of Ngo Quyen High School. One night he ran up to my house. “Help... help! Please help me quickly, Cuc.”

His story was that the school magazine was about to be printed but the number of pages was not enough. He asked me to write a short story. Fortunately, I had free time, so I was ready to help him. In his view, during that time of the year the press criticized Spring Ngo Quyen Magazine: The literature and poetry were sentimental, not normal. However, he happily patted his thigh and laughed, saying that comparing to other spring magazines, his school was still far ahead.

After graduating from school, I rarely saw him. He would stop by occasionally to tell me about his poems that had been set to music or to show me the manuscript of the short stories he had written. The last time he came to give me the piece of music “Em Hiền Như Ma Soeur (You Are As Gentle As Ma Soeur) with his autograph. Reading this song, I thought of my lovely friend Thu Thanh Pham. Was he also once aroused by her gentle eyes and meek appearance?

After 1975, I absolutely knew nothing about Nguyen and Mach Tho Group. The regime changed, lives changed, too. Everyone was busy making a living in miserable and worrisome conditions. A few years later, I heard that he and his family had crossed the border and were safely settled in France. In March 1992, I went to America. A few months later, Little Hong from Georgia called me at midnight. “Hey, have you heard this bad news? Hai Hoang Nguyen passed away.”

When I just came to the US and in the place where I lived, there were not many Vietnamese people, there were no newspapers, so I didn't get any news. Hong lived in a big city, there were a lot of Vietnamese people, so if she had any bit of news, she always let me know. We both grieved for him - a man of many passions - who ended up taking his own life with tranquilizers.

In 2005, during a conversation with Ba, she asked me, “Was 'Hai Rom’ (Skinny Hai) Nhien Tat Nguyen?” It turned out that since the day she got married, Ba had little contact with her friends, so she didn't know anything about him. “Oh my God, I love Nhien Tat Nguyen’s poetry but didn't expect him to be Hai Hoang Nguyen,” said Ba. She finally let on, “I didn't expect the life of the guy who played my husband to be so short.”

In November 2007, I decided to return to Vietnam after nearly sixteen years of separation. This return trip included both Hong and Sang. Our plan was to see Teachers and friends again. By the way, Hong was on familiar terms with Phuong Thien Dinh, his wife, and White Cloud Group, I also wanted to see the members of the old Mach Tho Group, so I asked Hong to contact and invite them all to join the friendly meeting. In my heart, I wanted to see my friends in Mach Tho Group again to remind me of my lost literary friends: Da Ta, Linh Thy Hoang and Nhien Tat Nguyen. A friend of mine in San Jose told me that Mr. Hoang had passed away. Although that news was false, Mr. Hoang didn’t come to the meeting. It was more regrettable that I did not have the opportunity to talk to him about the past as planned.

To keep my promise to Mr. LS Dat, the president of the Bien Hoa Friendship Association, this article is about Nhien Tat Nguyen and the memories of a time we participated in literature and theatre activities under the dear roof of Ngo Quyen Public High School. The article is as an incense stick in memory of the deceased. Somewhere in peace, I believe he is smiling, not a scornful, arrogant smile but an innocent, carefree smile of school age.

THY LE TRANG

MASSACHUSETTS

VỀ NGƯỜI BẠN ĐÃ MẤT: NGUYỄN TẤT NHIÊN

Thy Lệ Trang

Lòng tôi luôn cảm thấy bùi ngùi mỗi khi nghĩ về những kỷ niệm học trò đã qua hoặc khi nghe ai đó nhắc đến tên những người bạn thân quen đã ra người thiên cổ.

Tôi biết tin anh Nguyễn Tất Nhiên qua đời đã lâu. Dự định viết về anh nhiều lần, nhưng tôi cứ chần chừ... chần chừ... rồi không thực hiện được. Một phần vì bận rộn công việc làm, một phần vì ngại cầm lại bút. Tôi vẫn than phiền với nhỏ Hồng rằng vì lâu quá không viết nên văn chương có thể khô cằn như tuổi già của đời mình.

Tuy anh Hải (Nguyễn Hoàng Hải là tên thật của Nguyễn Tất Nhiên) và tôi học chung trường Trung học Ngô Quyền, nhưng chúng tôi lại quen nhau ở một địa điểm khác: nhà sách Huỳnh Hiệp. Lúc đó cả hai đang học lớp Đệ Lục. Thời con nít thích làm thơ-viết văn, tập tành làm văn thi sĩ. Tôi cặm cụi viết cho nhiều tờ báo như Tuổi Xanh, Tuổi Trẻ, Tuổi Hoa, Lá Xanh... với nhiều bút hiệu khác nhau. Do đó mỗi chiều tôi hay ra nhà sách Huỳnh Hiệp đón báo từ Sài Gòn mới về để mua. Anh Hải cũng vậy. Chúng tôi háo hức vừa trả tiền xong là vội vàng mở ra xem ngay, muốn biết bài của mình đã được đăng chưa hay còn nằm trong mục chờ đợi. Dĩ nhiên có bài được đăng, có bài không được trả lời nhưng chúng tôi rất vui vì tuổi học trò có nhiều ước mơ và hy vọng.

Vừa học vừa làm thơ vừa quậy phá. Đó là thời Trung Học của tôi. Rất nhiều người ngạc nhiên đã hỏi làm sao tôi có thể giữ tâm hồn thi văn lãng mạn trong khi chơi với đám bạn bè thực tế ồn ào nổi danh Ngũ Qủy. Anh Hải cũng hay đặt câu hỏi đó. Nhiều lần gặp tôi tại trường, anh định khoe về một bài thơ hay một bài văn mới sáng tác thì nhỏ Ba đã kéo tôi đi và trừng mắt nhìn anh hăm dọa. Anh cười khì khì, hai tay chấp lại xá xá vài cái rồi dông mất.

Năm học Đệ Tứ - đó là năm học đáng nhớ nhất của tôi. Dù bận rộn hoàn thành tập san Xuân cho lớp Tứ Ba, tôi cũng tham gia gửi bài cho báo Xuân Ngô Quyền. Rất vui mừng và hảnh diện khi bài của tôi được Thầy Cô trao giải nhất văn chương đồng hạng với một bài văn của anh học Đệ Nhất.Tôi không nhớ anh tên gì chỉ nhớ bài viết của anh rất dễ thương: "Con diều của tôi bắt đầu mọc gai trong hồn và chở sầu bay sướt mướt trong mơ". Bởi vì năm đó hoa soan đã nở mà bố anh vẫn đi biền biệt không về. Giải thưởng cho tôi:quyển tập thơ của Phạm Công Thiện và một cây bút máy Trung Quốc.

Những ngày cuối năm kh̀ông khí trường Ngô Quyền rất náo nhiệt. Để chuậ̉n bị văn nghệ cho trường, anh Hải đi đến từng lớp để t̀ìm một vai nữ đóng cặp với anh trong ṃ̀ột hài kịch do chính anh sáng tác và đạo diễn. Anh đến lớp tôi bị các bạn bàn trên quay quá cỡ. Lớp Tứ Ba của tôi nổi tiếng có nhiều bạn học rất giỏi nhưng ngoài giờ học cũng lém lỉnh không kém ai. Thoát khỏi những câu hỏi hóc búa, anh đi xuống bàn cuối nơi tôi ngồi nhăn mặt than phiền: Khổ qúa, khổ quá, tìm hòài không ra. Tôi hỏi: -Vai gì mà khó tìm người dữ vậy?

-Vai một người đàn bà hung dữ chuyên môn ăn hiếp chồng.

Nhỏ Ba ngồi cạnh tôi mở miệng hỏi: -Dữ cỡ tao đóng được không?

-Được được lắm. Anh mừng quá, mặt cười hớn hở.

Thế là nhỏ Ba và nhỏ Lưu bắt phải chấp nhận một điều kiện: Sau mỗi lần tập kịch anh phải bao bọn tôi một chầu nước đá đậu xanh bánh lọt và một chầu phim ở rạp Biên Hùng. Để vở kịch của mình được hoàn thành, anh gật đầu chịu hết. Đó là một loại hài kịch kiểu Phi Thoàn, nói về chuyện anh chàng ở thành phố có một bà vợ dữ như sư tử Hà đông. Sợ vợ nhưng không muốn mất mặt trước anh ruột của mình. Nhân ngày ông anh ở nhà quê lên thăm, anh ta năn nỉ vợ gỉả bộ đóng vai trò người vợ hiền thục biết vâng lời chồng. Người vợ đồng ý. Nhưng những yêu sách kỳ cục, tức cười của ông chồng làm chị vợ không dằn được. Cuối cùng chị vợ đã nện cho anh chồng một trận đòn nên thân.

Dĩ nhiên anh Hải đóng vai người chồng, nhỏ Ba đóng vai người vợ và một người bạn học cùng lớp với anh Hải đóng vai người anh. Tôi được giao nhiệm vụ làm người nhắc tuồng. Tuần lễ đầu êm xuôi, tất cả đều diển biến tốt đẹp. Anh hí hửng bao bọn tôi một chầu đậu xanh bánh lọt và một chầu phim. Nhằm lúc đó rạp hát Biên Hùng xuất sáng chiếu phim, xuất trưa trình diễn cải lương. Nhỏ Lưu rất rành về sân khấu kịch nghệ, đời tư nghệ sĩ, tài tử nào nó cũng thuộc nằm lòng. Với bản tánh tò mò hay phá phách, nhỏ Lưu rũ cả bọn leo vào hậu trường xem mặt các nghệ sĩ. Lúc đầu anh Hải từ chối, nhưng sau đó ham vui cũng tham gia.

Chúng tôi đến trò chuyện với các nghệ sĩ Mỹ Châu, Minh Phụng và còn bày ̣đặt xin hình và chữ ký của họ nữa. Một điều tôi nhận thấy anh Hải có óc nghệ sĩ và khiếu khôi hài. Trong thời gian tập kịch, anh hay kể chuyện tiếu lâm chọc cười bọn tôi. Cho đến bây giờ - bốn mươi năm qua rồi - mà tôi vẫn còn nhớ hình ảnh anh và nhỏ Ba rượt đuổi nhau chạy vòng vòng trong phòng tập; hay cảnh anh ôm bụng vừa cười vừa lắc đầu khi chọc cho nhỏ Lưu chửi thề.

Gần tới ngày trình diễn, ông bạn của anh bỏ cuộc, báo hại anh mặt mày méo xẹo, than vắn thở dài, còn nhỏ Ba cũng mất hứng tức mình vì sợ không có cơ hội diển xuất cho thầy và các bạn xem. Túng quá tôi phải gồng mình hy sinh: -Để tôi đóng cho. Giọng nói khan khan của tôi đóng vai đàn ông được rồi nhưng tóc tôi dài thì sao? Chuyện đó giải quyết được ngay. Vì thủ vai đàn ông ở nhà quê lên tỉnh, tôi phải mặc áo dài khăn đống, do đó tóc tôi cuộn tròn dấu phía trong. Nhận vai này không khó khăn, vì tôi là người nhắc tuồng nên đã thuộc làu vở kịch. Không biết tâm trạng anh Hải và nhỏ Ba ra sao chứ riêng tôi rất hồi hộp và rất run. Vừa bước ra sân khấu tôi đã nghe tiếng cười vang trời có lẽ vì bộ râu anh vẽ cho tôi. Cũng may nhờ cặp mắt kiếng gìa của ông Ngoại anh nên tôi không thấy gì ở phía dưới sân khấu cả. Nhờ đó mà tôi lấy lại tinh thần và diễn xuất rất tự nhiên.

Vở kịch thành công. Bạn bè đứa nào cũng khen ngợi. Miệng nhỏ Lưu oang oang: -Trời ơi, tụi mày diễn vui qúa, khó tánh như cô Hà Bích Loan mà còn cười chảy nước mắt. Anh Hải đưa ngón tay cái lên, chân mày nhương nhướng như có vẻ tự hào. Nhỏ Ba vổ vai anh: -Kỳ sau nhớ rủ tao đóng kịch nửa nghe mậy. Anh chấp hai tay để ngay ngực, cúi đầu: -Mô Phật tui sợ mấy bà qúa. -Sợ gì, đi chơi vui thấy mồ. –Vui thì vui nhưng hao qúa, thôi bye...bye...

Năm Đệ Tam, anh cùng các anh Mây Trắng, Đinh Thiên Phương, Hoàng Thy Linh, Đa Tạ lên nhà tôi. Đọc tập san Mạch Thở nhiều lần nhưng bây giờ tôi mới biết mặt các anh trong ban biên tập. Đó là một tập san viết bằng tay và chuyền cho các bạn yêu văn nghệ xem. Tôi thích mục "Mảnh vở và ngày tháng trầm lặng". Cá́i tựa nghe cũng dể thương. Mỗi chúng ta trong cuộc sống hàng ngày ai laị không có những mảnh vụn suy tư để chia sẻ. Tôi rất vui khi được gia nhập vào nhóm Mạch Thở. Anh Hải thường lên nhà tôi một mình để khoe về những bài thơ mới hay nói về những dự tính trong tương lai. Nhiều người nói anh có tật xấu như nóng tánh, dêễ nổi giận. Tôi chưa chứng kiến cảnh đó nên không biết; chỉ biết một điều là đôi lúc anh ngu ngơ như trẻ con. Dạo ấy Truyền hình miền Nam hay chiếu phim câm Charlot vào trưa cuối tuần. Anh đến nhà tôi lúc mọi người xem phim, tất cả các cửa đều khép kín. Anh không gọi, chỉ lặng lẽ mở một cánh cửa sổ, đứng ôm song cửa sổ xem phim say sưa, đến những đoạn hấp dẫn anh vung tay cười thật dòn, cười nhiều đến nổi tưởng chừng như ngộp thở. Khi phim chấm dứt, anh mới chiụ vào trong nhà. Cũng từ đó thằng em trai tôi đặt biệt hiệu cho anh là 'Tắt Thở'. Mỗi lần nhìn thấy dáng anh từ xa là nó đã kêu réo om sòm: -Chị Cúc, có anh 'Tắt Thở' đến.

Hình như năm Đệ Nhất anh Hải là trưởng ban báo chí trường TH Ngô Quyền. Một đêm anh chạy lên nhà tôi: -Cứu nguy, cứu nguy... Cúc mau giúp anh. Số là báo trường sắp lên khuôn mà số trang bài viết chưa đủ. Anh nhờ tôi viết cho ṃột truyện ngắn. Cũng may đang lúc rảnh rang nên tôi sẵn sàng. Năm đó. theo anh, báo chí phê bình báo Xuân Ngô quyền: văn và thơ ủy mị, không được bình thường. Tuy nhiên anh rất vui, tay vỗ vào đùi và miệng cười ha hả bảo rằng nếu so với báo xuân trường khác thì trường mình vẫn vượt xa.

Sau khi rời trường tôi ít gặp anh. Họa hoằn lắm anh ghé lại một chút báo tin về những bài thơ anh được phổ nhạc hay cho xem bản thảo truyện ngắn anh viết. Lần cuối cùng anh đến tặng tôi bản nhạc “Em hiền như Masoeur” có chữ ký của anh. Đọc bản nhạc này, tôi liên tưởng đến cô bạn xinh xắn của tôi Phạm Thị Thanh Thu. Phải chăng anh cũng đã từng xao xuyến trước ánh mắt và dáng dấp nhu mì của nhỏ?

Sau năm một chín bảy năm, tôi hoàn toàn không biết gì về anh Hải và nhóm Mạch Thở. Chế độ thay đổi, cuộc sống thay đổi. Mọi người ai cũng lo kiếm sống, khốn khó và suy tư nhiều hơn. Vài năm sau tôi nghe tin anh và gia đình vượt biên và đã được định cư an toàn tại Pháp. Tháng ba năm 1992 tôi sang Mỹ. Vài th́áng sau nhỏ Hồng từ Georgia gọi tôi vào lúc nửa ̣đêm: -Ê, hay gì chưa? Nguyễn hoàng Hải chết rồi!

Tôi mới tới Mỹ, nơi tôi ở không có người VN nhiều, báo chí không có nên tôi không biết gì cả. Hồng ở thành phố lớn, người Việt đông nên có tin gì nhỏ cũng cho tôi hay. Cả hai chúng tôi bùi ngùi cho anh -một người có nhiều đam mê -cuối cùng lại tự kết liểu đời mình bằng những viên thuốc an thần.

Năm 2005, trong lần nói chuyện với nhỏ Ba, nó đã hỏi tôi: -Có phải 'Hải Ròm' là NTN không? Thì ra từ ngày lấy chồng, nhỏ Ba ít liên lạc với bạn bè nên không biết. -Trời ơi, tao mê thơ NTN mà không ngờ nó là NH Hải. Cuối cùng nó cũng buông thòng một câu: -Không ngờ thằng đóng vai chồng tao lại vắn số như vậy.

Tháng 11-2007, tôi quyết định về thăm VN sau gần mười sáu năm xa cách. Chuyến về này có cả Hồng và Sáng. Dự định của chúng tôi là gặp lại Thầy, Cô, bạn bè. Nhân tiện Hồng có quen với vợ chồng anh Đinh Thiên Phương và Mây Trắng, tôi cũng muốn gặp lại các anh trong nhóm MT ngày xưa nên nhờ Hồng liên lạc mời các anh đến chung vui trong cuộc họp mặt thân tình. Trong thâm tâm, tôi muốn gặp lại các anh trong nhóm Mạch Thở để nhắc nhở về những người bạn văn nghệ đã mất: Đa Tạ, Hoàng Thy Linh, và Nguyễn Tất Nhiên. Một người bạn của tôi ở San Jose đã cho tôi tin anh Hoàng Thy Linh đã qua đời, không ngờ đó là tin thất thiệt, vì vậy buổi họp mặt không có anh Linh. Càng ân hận hơn là tôi không có cơ hội để trò chuyện với anh về chuyện ngày xưa như dự định.

Để giữ lời hứa với anh LS Đắt -hội trưởng hội Ái hữu BH, tôi đã viết về anh Nguyễn Tất Nhiên, về những kỷ niệm một thời làm văn nghệ dưới mái trường thân thương Trung học Công Lập Ngô Quyền. Bài viết như một nén nhang tưởng niệm người đã khuất. Ở môt nơi bình an nào đó, tôi tin rầng anh đang mỉm cười, không phải nụ cười khinh bạc, ngạo mạn mà là nụ cười hồn nhiên, vô tư của tuổi học trò.

THY LỆ TRANG

HỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA INTERNET

Sunday, May 8, 2022

ABOUT MY LOST FRIEND NHIEN TAT NGUYEN - Memoir by Thy Le Trang - Translation by Phuoc Khac Nguyen

A Translation by Phuoc Khac Nguyen

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