the fall

as I've said in my guide to america, I admit I owe bryn mawr a fall photo collection. and that's just what I'm going to do today, finishing up the sequence of seasons after the rite of spring, with photos from not only this fall but also last fall that I didn't have a chance to publish.

before we start, let's think about fall as a concept. fall is a season, but it's also a motion. it's a season defined by a motion, the falling of things. that's probably why ma văn kháng called the fall the season of leaves falling in the garden (mùa lá rụng trong vườn). is falling apart or falling together? could be one, could be both, it depends on your point of view. it's not really whether or not you fall, but how you fall.

every time I walk on campus, I can't help but get astonished by the elegant falling of leaves. maple leaves twirl, while oak leaves draw pivoting lines when accompanied by the wind. after looking at them for a while, I kinda get why the cover of my calculus textbook looks like it. leaves change color in preparation for winter. in yellow leaves, chlorophyll is broken down into a more yellow chlorophyll. in red leaves, chlorophyll is shielded by a compound that is red. the partial destruction or shielding of chlorophyll happens to make it less reactive as the plant starts storing stuff, and hyped chlorophyll is not really good for the plant during that phase.

fall exists to me in many forms, but mainly in poems, in music, and in film. I can't help but remembering visions from a distant past, of poetry verses that I've learned in vietnamese way back then. to my surprise, this season helps me connect with my heritage although vietnam only has two seasons: rain and dry.

let us gaze at this season before its departure, while being accompanied by fragments of poems, music, and film.

VIỆT BẮC (NORTHERN VIETNAM) by TỐ HỮU

ve kêu rừng phách* đổ vàng

nhớ cô em gái hái măng một mình**

(the) cicadas sing, (the) amber* forest pour to gold

(I) remember the little sister picking bamboo shoots alone**

(les) cigales chantent (et) la forêt d’ambre* versant de l’or 

(je me) souviens (de) la petite sœur qui cueillait seule des pousses de bambou**

* phách can mean two things in this context, the phách tree (which I still can't find its scientific name to translate properly) and the amber color. I stuck to the color for this translation

** vietnamese is a language with a latin alphabet but chinese grammar, which makes it very brief (no articles like a the le la les l' or be/être verbs - so like I tired instead of I am tired). for the translations, I placed the articles in the brackets to mimic its rhythm in vietnamese

I read it from somewhere on reddit, a long time ago when I was really stressed, someone said that if you're really stressed, just go under a tree and look up. the motion itself and just extending your perspective really helps with relieving anxiety. you can lie down too it's nicer.

ĐI HỌC (GOING TO SCHOOL) by MINH CHÍNH

hương rừng thơm đồi vắng,

nước suối trong thầm thì,

cọ xoè ô che nắng,

râm mát đường em đi.

the scent of the forest perfumes the deserted hill

the clear spring water whispers,

the palm trees turn into umbrellas shielding from the sun,

cooling down the path where I go

ĐÊM CÔN SƠN (NIGHT AT CÔN SƠN) by TRẦN ĐĂNG KHOA

ngoài thềm rơi cái lá đa

tiếng rơi rất mỏng như là rơi nghiêng

outside the porch fell a banyan leaf

the thin falling sound as if it was a slanted fall

in music, we can't help but remember trịnh công sơn's valse nhìn những mùa thu đi (looking at the passage of autumns / en regardant le passage de l'automne) and rhye's the fall (also the title of this blog!). and in film, I think the proposal scene in the taste of things by trần anh hùng remains the one with the best pick up lines yet.

dear friends!

eugénie and I have decided to wed in our autumn years.

we are in our autumn years and I say this without melancholy.

and we shall wed in autumn.

autumn, of gold and rain, is a wise season of good counsel.

it's also a fine season for gastronomy.

an autumn rose is more exquisite than another.

in autumn, the grape harvests bring cool winds, game and good cheer.

you have chestnuts, artichokes, green grapes and pears.

and though quails, warblers and corncrakes depart, the woodpigeon, woodcock and duck arrive

from the other end of the world to whet our appetite.

meanwhile, the sea recovers from the fright caused by the summer heat.

in Normandy, apples are harvested with sticks to embellish and vary our sweet courses.

in autumn, one dines by candlelight, better and longer, with greater pleasure and joy.

ducks and wild geese travel from North to South.

autumn is the transition from the frugal joys of summer to the solid pleasures of winter.

eugénie, let us wed in autumn and welcome winter's pleasures together.