Cám ơn bạn, Marcel. đây là lần đầu tiên mình được nghe nhạc Trịnh Công Sơn bằng tiếng anh, trước đây có nghe qua tiếng nhật. Those are beaufiful songs.

Bài Diểm Xưa không coi được Marcel ơi, Marcel check lai giùm, it's take forever to load. Ngoài 2 bài này, Marcel còn bài nào nửa không, post lên luôn được không Marcel?

Những bản nhạc khác của TCS đã được Richard Fuller dịch và trình bày bằng tiếng Mỹ.


"Nguoi Con Gai Viet Nam Da Vang" (Girl with Yellow Skin), by the late-Trinh Cong Son, Viet Nam. Translated by Rich Fuller


[size=-1]
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang,
Yeu que huong nhu yeu dong lua chin,
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang,
Yeu que huong nuoc mat lung dong.
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang,
Yeu que huong nen yeu nguoi yeu kem.
Nguoi con gai ngoi mo thanh binh.
Yeu que huong nhu da yeu minh.
Em chua biet que huong thanh binh.
Em chua thay xua kia Viet Nam.
Em chua hat ca dao mot lan.
Em chi co con tim cam hon.
Nguoi con gai mot hom qua lang.
Di trong dem, dem vang am tieng sung.
Nguoi con gai chot om tim minh.
Tren da thom vet mau loang dan.
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang,
Yeu que huong nhu yeu dong lua chin.
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang
Yeu que huong nay da khong con.
Oi cai chet dau thuong vo tinh!
Oi dat nuoc u me ngan nam!
Em da den que huong mot minh,
Rieng toi van au lo di tim.
Nguoi con gai Viet Nam da vang (3 X fading) [/size]

[size=-1]Girl so young, with skin like gold,
Home you love like fields of grain,
Girl so young, with skin like gold,
On your face fall tears like rain.
Girl so young, with skin like gold,
Home you love, so do love the weak.
Seated there in dreams of peace,
Proud of home as of your womanhood.
You've never known our land in peace.
You've never known olden Viet Nam.
You've never sung our village songs.
All you have is an angry heart.
Passing by the village gate,
In the night with guns booming low,
Girl so young, you clutch your heart.
On soft skin a bleeding wound grows.
Girl so young, with skin like gold,
Home you love like fields of grain,
Girl so young, with skin like gold,
You love home which is no more.
O! Unfeeling and heartless death.
Dark our land a thousand years.
Home, my sister, you've come alone.
And I, alone, still search for you.
Girl so young, with skin like gold (3 times, fading) [/size]


"Dai Bac Ru Dem" (Lullaby of the Artillery), by the late-Trinh Cong Son, Viet Nam. Translated by Rich Fuller



[size=-1]Dai bac dem dem doi ve thanh pho.
Nguoi phu quet duong dung choi lang nghe.
Dai bac qua day danh thuc me day.
Dai bac qua day con tho buon tui.
Nua dem sang choi hoa chau tren nui.
Dai bac dem dem doi ve thanh pho.
Nguoi phu quet duong dung choi dung nghe.
Tung chuyen bay dem con tho giat minh.
Ham tru tan hoang oi da thit vang!
Tung dem chom sang la mat que huong.
REFRAIN: Hang van tan bom trut xuong dau lang!
Hang van tan bom trut xuong ruong dong!
Cua nha Viet Nam chay do cuoi thon.
Hang van chuyen xe, claymore luu dan,
Hang van chuyen xe mang vo thi thanh.
Tung vung thit xuong co me co em.
Dai bac dem dem doi ve thanh pho.
Nguoi phu quet duong dung choi dung nghe.
Dai bac dem dem tuong lai rung vang.
Dai bac nhu kinh khong mang loi nguyen.
Tre tho quen song tung dem nghe ngong.
Dai bac dem dem doi ve thanh pho.
Nguoi phu quet duong dung choi dung nghe.
Dai bac dem dem ru da thit vang.
Dai bac nghe quen nhu cau dao buon.
Tre con chua lon de thay que huong. [/size]

[size=-1]Night after night fall shells t'wards town;
A sweeper stops her broom to hear.
As shells do fly, a mother wakes,
As shells do fly, a child's soft cry.
Bright flares burst open above the mountains.
Night after night fall shells t'wards town;
A sweeper stops her broom to hear.
Each round's dark trip, a child in fright.
A shelter hit--O! Horrid sight!
Each night keeps flashing the face of our land.
REFRAIN: O! Tons of bombs fall on the gate.
The bombs like rain fall on our fields.
A house burns red at the end of the lane.
Grenades, claymores the trucks haul down.
Such endless stores they bring through town.
Our mother's bones lie everywhere.
Night after night fall shells t'wards town;
A sweeper stops her broom to hear.
Night after night, the future quakes,
As shells like empty prayers repeat.
A child half-living each night waits listening.
Night after night fall shells t'wards town;
A sweeper stops her broom to hear.
Each night, the rounds, they sing for us,
Familiar sounds, like sad refrains.
What child will ever see home again? (3 times,fading) [/size]


"Gia Tai Cua Me" (A Mother's Heritage), by the late-Trinh Cong Son, Viet Nam. Translated by Rich Fuller



[size=-1]Mot ngan nam no le giac Tau,
Mot tram nam do ho giac Tay,
Hai muoi nam noi chien tung ngay.
Gia tai cua me de lai cho con.
Gia tai cua me la nuoc Viet buon.
Mot ngan nam no le giac Tau,
Mot tram nam do ho giac Tay,
Hai muoi nam noi chien tung ngay.
Gia tai cua me mot rung xuong kho.
Gia tai cua me mot nui day mo.
Refrain:
Day cho con tieng noi that tha.
Me mong con cho quen mau da,
Con cho quen mau da nuoc Viet xua.
Me trong con mau buoc ve nha.
Me mong con lu con duong xa.
Oi lu con cung cha quen han thu.
Mot ngan nam no le giac Tau,
Mot tram nam do ho giac Tay,
Hai muoi nam noi chien tung ngay.
Gia tai cua me ruong dong kho khan.
Gia tai cua me nha chay tung hang.
Mot ngan nam no le giac Tau,
Mot tram nam do ho giac Tay,
Hai muoi nam noi chien tung ngay.
Gia tai cua me mot bon lai cang.
Gia tai cua me mot lu boi tinh. 
[/size][size=-1]
A thousand years of Chinese reign.
A hundred years of French domain.
Twenty years fighting brothers each day,
A mother's fate, left for her child,
A mother's fate, a land defiled.
A thousand years of Chinese reign.
A hundred years of French domain.
Twenty years fighting brothers each day,
A mother's fate, bones left to dry,
And graves that fill a mountain high.
Refrain:
Teach your children to speak their minds.
Don't let them forget their kind--
Never forget their kind, from old Viet land.
Mother wait for your kids to come home,
Kids who now so far away roam.
Children of one father, be reconciled.
A thousand years of Chinese reign.
A hundred years of French domain.
Twenty years fighting brothers each day.
A mother's fate, our fields so dead,
And rows of homes in flames so red.
A thousand years of Chinese reign.
A hundred years of French domain.
Twenty years fighting brothers each day.
A mother's fate, her kids' misdeeds,
Her kids filled with disloyalty.
(Refrain) [/size]

Xóa (xem toàn bộ ở trên).