Quy Nhon beach.

The memories of Quy Nhon are still engraved in my mind. It is as clear as a mirror in which I could see myself. I looked back on the past and realized I was at sea of its stormy and calm days. Even a grain of sand could make me moved.

In 1988, some members of Nghia Binh (Binh Dinh now) Literature and Arts Association had me prepare articles for Phu nu va thoi dai (Women and age) magazine. The first person I thought of was Trinh Cong Son, who had many memories of Quy Nhon city thanks to his two years at Quy Nhon Pedagogy School.

However it was said that Son had seldom published his memoirs. I was, therefore, rather afraid of visiting him. Unlike my thinking, Son welcomed me as his bosom friend when I went to his house. Perhaps hospitality was one of his characters.

He invited me whisky, saying that he had many memories of the city where he worked a lot during two years. Son then told me his memories of the sea, Ghenh Rang, and Cham ancient towers.

He said the sunlight in Quy Nhon was very strange, particularly after the lunar New Year. From Quy Nhon Pedagogy School, looking down to the surface of the sea at noon, you could see the sunlight as millions of pieces of broken glass. I still wonder if the sunlight of the city is the one mentioned in his song entitled Nang thuy tinh.

One week later I came back to take his article named “About a city I was away” and he again invited me a glass of wine.

However the magazine could only be published with limited circulation due to some unbiased reasons. There were, thus, no royalties for him and other writers. I had to come to his home to apologize for that. “It doesn’t matter,” he smiled and invited me a glass of wine.

It seemed that he received the royalty payment one year later. Son then used the royalties to invite me to eat out. Both again thought of Quy Nhon.

“About a city I was away” was his only article about Quy Nhon. Fortunately, the short article partly explained the birth of Son’s most well-known songs, such as Bien nho, Diem xua, Nhin nhung mua thu di, whose origins many still misunderstand.

Below is his writing

About a city I was away I’ve never returned to Quy Nhon for nearly 30 years. The notion of time always causes me a touch of sadness. I was young and greatly loved sea when living there. The song Bien nho I wrote is about the city’s streets. The streets, sea, and my girl friend, who enjoyed the view of sea with me every night, now become a thing of the past, but the image of Quy Nhon is still engraved in my mind, as clear as a mirror, in which I could see myself. I looked back on my past and realized I was at sea of its stormy and calm days. I realized I wandered around the city’s streets and played billiards alone. Alone, I slept in the boarding house when other people gathered together. At that time I was young but very lonely. My girl friend sometimes knocked the door when I was sleeping and asked me to go to the beach. How is her life now? I don’t want to awake the past for it makes me sad. There are empty houses through which the wind blows. Sometimes our souls have to suffer a current of air. Don’t recall the past which is beautiful but useless. We only live for today. Today is also the past and we are trying to race against time to make it the endless present. Quy Nhon has Cham towers standing alone for years. A long dream makes us remember what was engraved in our souls. I’m always an absent-minded man. I forgot but there is still someone who never forgets anything and they are wandering in my life and whispering in my ear what I don’t want to remember. I wonder whether Quy Nhon is still picturesque or not. When I lived there, I was in my early twenties. Every thing is beautiful at that age. I love people and nature. I will likely return to Quy Nhon to hesitatingly see the beach of the old days, when a grain of sand could me moved. Trinh Cong Son (1988)

• Source: TTO (translated by HQuang)