hai mươi lăm ❀| moon and mountains listen silently
[Vietnam sits in a quiet corner of the park with this on her lap. The lacquered instrument- a đàn bầu- would look completely unfamiliar to anyone who does not study traditional Asian music; it is a monochord, which means that it only has one string.
She's playing a song quite familiar to her, and singing so quietly to herself that the words can barely be heard. She brushes the string with her right hand while she adjusts the pitch with her left. Playing the instrument seems to be quite simple, but her fingers are very precise in their movements, touching the string lightly and only in very specific spots. The sound is smooth and rich but melancholy, though captivating in its own way.
It might be a strange sight to some to see Vietnam like this, singing and laughing quietly to herself and quite openly, delighted with her newest regain.]
Dù ai xa vắng trên đường sớm chiều về đâu... [Soft laughter.] Ah, I am certainly out of practice...
She's playing a song quite familiar to her, and singing so quietly to herself that the words can barely be heard. She brushes the string with her right hand while she adjusts the pitch with her left. Playing the instrument seems to be quite simple, but her fingers are very precise in their movements, touching the string lightly and only in very specific spots. The sound is smooth and rich but melancholy, though captivating in its own way.
It might be a strange sight to some to see Vietnam like this, singing and laughing quietly to herself and quite openly, delighted with her newest regain.]
Dù ai xa vắng trên đường sớm chiều về đâu... [Soft laughter.] Ah, I am certainly out of practice...