nhất tiễn song điêu
to kill two birds with one stone
All languages English Tiếng Việt
Where will you be? Anywhere Hà Nội & the NorthHuế / Đà Nẵng & the CenterSài Gòn & the SouthOnline slang Bắc ↔ Nam words
to kill two birds with one stone
First in all the mortal world — beyond compare, bar none.
First the wife, then heaven — the henpecked cosmology, ranked honestly.
Swallow one moment's anger, spare a hundred days' grief — the exchange rate of forbearance.
when in Rome, do as the Romans do
when in Rome, do as the Romans do
Traditional tone placement spelling of nhập gia tuỳ tục.
Enter the river by its bends, the house by its customs — adapt to each place's own grain.
Eyes shut, chancing it — commitment by deliberate blindness.
overly curious in taking a crack at miscellaneous items, usually with no or little purpose
Light as a feather yet unthrowable; heavy as lead yet it sails — handling, not weight, decides the task.
Pull the weed, pull the root — if you must destroy, destroy to the last fiber or it grows back.
Missing someone, restless and turning — like standing in a bonfire, like sitting on coals — longing rendered in embers.
Riding the flood to push the driftwood — borrowing one current to move another cargo.
A word weighs a bowl of blood — speech can cost exactly that much; weigh it first.
A word is a packet of gold — speech carries bullion weight; spend it carefully.
Meat hung at the tiger's mouth — property, or persons, parked in the one place sure to consume them.
First, don't start; second, don't stop — begin nothing, or finish everything.
One witness proves nothing, two prove all — testimony's arithmetic in the old courts.
First a beard, then a gourd belly — the physiognomy of prosperity, whiskers before waistline.
One night breeds a hundred schemes — the sleepless heart is a workshop of plots.
Beware the one-tusked elephant and the one-eyed man — folk physiognomy's two flagged dangers.
One craft mastered, one life honored — a single trade polished to shine carries its owner whole.
One sentence can raise a state, one sentence can ruin it — weigh speech like statecraft.
One day unseen, three autumns long — absence stretching every hour into a season.
Skip one day of good intent and every evil sprouts by itself — virtue is daily maintenance.
One day in prison, a thousand autumns outside — captivity's clock runs a millennium per day.
A teacher for one day is a teacher — instruction of an hour earns a lifetime's respect.
Each new law births its own racket — every fresh rule feeds the clerks who work its loopholes.
One spark burns ten thousand cords of wood; one crooked half-sentence burns a lifetime's virtue — fire and speech, same physics.
Every sip and every peck was settled beforehand — down to the least mouthful, the script is prior.
You did it, you answer for it — the deed's invoice is addressed to its maker.
When the weather crossed and the child fell ill, mother could neither stand nor sit — a whole life of ceaseless toil, trading rice-bowls of gold to raise her young.
Eyes like knotweed leaves and willow-leaf brows — worth a hundred strings of coin — the classical inventory of a lovely face.
The sun low, the road ended — old age's dusk, past all racing.
Sun and moon shine, but never under the upturned basin — even genius has its blind hollow.
Rather death than disgrace — the neck outranks the name in no ledger that matters.
Better a tiger on the mountain than a fish in the pot — sovereignty in the wild over comfort in captivity.
However many the years, interest may not pass principal — the old usury cap: one capital, one interest.
His eyes are bigger than his belly.
Full of rice and frisky — comfort breeding mischief.
Feast crammed, famine scraped — bingeing and starving by turns; no steady measure.
Full spoils the appetite, fury spoils the wits — anger is a brief insanity.
Fed, a Buddha; starved, a ghost — morality runs on meals.
It's fine, no problem — a joke word-for-word "translation" of "không sao đâu" (không = no, sao = star, đâu = where). Classic Vietnamese-English wordplay.
Full inside, palm-sheath and clay outside — the cowherd's trick of plastering the hungry buffalo; padding over emptiness.
Stuffed with sticky rice, sick of sweet soup — sated to the point of revulsion.
The Bồng peaks and Nhược waters — fairyland; the immortals' postal address.
The high mountain has its climbing path; even peril keeps a way through — no terrain is entirely without a road.
Raising a child to full and whole, the parents' heads scratch bare, bones wear, knees bow — grown now, the child must honor those two.
No parent invoices the rice — feeding one's children admits no bookkeeping.
Only in raising my own children do I understand — and silently love my parents for raising me back then.
Keeping a fox in the hen-coop — sheltering the one who will devour you.
Raise the pig for lard, raise the child for helping hands — the farmhouse arithmetic of dependents.
Keeping a monkey to watch the house — entrusting the wrong creature and paying for it.
to protect or raise someone who could later betray or turn against you; to nourish a viper in one's bosom
A bee in the sleeve, a monkey watching the house — nurtured enemies posted at your softest points.
initialism of nhân vật cung cấp
Texting shortcut for “nữa” — more / also. “j nx” = what else?
Nà ní — Vietnamese respelling of Japanese 'nani': whaaat?!, disbelief in anime intonation.