nghĩa nặng tình thâm
Heavy duty and deep affection — a bond of obligation and love grown profound.
All languages English Tiếng Việt
Heavy duty and deep affection — a bond of obligation and love grown profound.
The martial art turned on its master — the student striking with the very skill the teacher gave.
The trade steers the tradesman — each calling bends its practitioner to itself.
art for art's sake
The midday break — a real institution: shops dim, offices nap, Vietnam pauses roughly 11:30–13:30. Schedule around it.
Ants know where the water is — Guan Zhong dug at the ant-hills and the army drank; small creatures, sound intelligence.
Ngoan xinh yêu — 'well-behaved, pretty, lovable': the tripartite compliment for someone adorably wholesome.
Sashaying like a crab with a snapped claw — a strut that its own damage makes ridiculous.
Blazingly delicious — Southern "bá cháy" pushes tastiness into festival territory; food-stall superlative of choice.
So good there is no dipping sauce left to describe it — a grinning superlative born at the family table.
Deliciousness that "aches the armpit" — gleefully absurd anatomy for food (or deals) too good to review calmly.
"So delicious!" — say it mid-bite and mean it; the highest compliment a cook hears all day, and the cheapest gift you can give.
'Nam mô' on the lips, three basketfuls of daggers in the heart — piety worn over an armory.
Describes time passing in a flash.
The simple enjoy the peace — untroubled by knowing better, the fool sleeps soundest.
Enter no peril, dwell in no disorder — the wise map draws itself around danger.
Nguyen-y-van — 'unchanged as ever': a pun reshuffling 'vẫn y nguyên' into a fake person's name.
precarious, on thin ice
The third day and the eighth month — the hungry gaps between harvests; the lean weeks of the farming year.
In a day or two — very soon; within days.
Once you were tiny; look how grown you are — father's rice, mother's clothes, teacher's pains: think how to be worth those hoping years.
nowadays; in this day and age
International Workers’ Day; May Day
Children’s Day
once upon a time
A day's road is less than a hand-span of water — the shortest water crossing outdelays the longest land march.
first day of school
Price-delusional — asking or expecting a price wildly detached from reality, as if high on the number itself; born in the property market and now applied to any overpriced listing.
to be intensely bored
Bonds cut and kin estranged, all for money — the one solvent that dissolves blood.
Look up at the lashings of the roof — as many knots as there are, that many times I miss my grandparents.
Words have long wings — speech flies farther than its speaker ever travels.
Words and deeds at odds — professing one thing and practicing another.
Words outrunning the truth — the account bigger than the fact.
Few words, much knowing — the reticent mind is the full one.
Star-words and gem-speech — language distilled until it belongs in the anthologies.
Speak so it lands — one sentence discloses the gentleman or the knave; aim every word.
Eccentric with style — flamboyance carried off on personality alone.
overhead locker
Barring the rivers and banning the markets — cutting off the flow of goods between regions.
Five pips seize the deal — the tam cúc hand that wins the right to lead; grabbing first call.
Fish-eyes mixed among pearls — fakes shelved with the genuine, daring the eye to sort them.
Fish and water in one band — a fellowship as close as the element to what swims in it.
Close to the English saying: “Birds of a feather flock together.”.
The moneyed scorn the empty-handed — respect priced strictly in cash.
A stranger with decency, treat as kin; kin without decency, let them go — conduct, not blood, draws the family line.
A two-faced person — sweet to your face, different behind your back; the standard label for double-dealing.
The wise age quickly — thought is expensive tissue.
every man for himself
People are the gold; goods are the debt of kindness — value the maker over the made.
People make the wealth — hands, not vaults, are the mint.
The louse-picker — someone withdrawn from worldly affairs, absorbed in their own small business.
The busybody — "many-story person": collects, retells, and embroiders everyone's business; every neighborhood has one.
People come in five and seven ranks, goods in three and seven kinds — variety is the census of the world.
A living person is a pile of gold — no asset compares with being alive.
People are the flowers of the earth — humanity as the soil's finest bloom.
Others transplant rice for wages; I transplant watching every quarter — sky, earth, cloud, rain, sun, day, night — praying for firm feet and soft stone, calm heaven and quiet sea — the farmer's whole anxiety in one verse.
Others travel in pairs and return in pairs; I go single and come back alone — solitude in one couplet.
People look their best in silk — presentation flatters whoever wears it.
Why did we ever have to meet — a hundred years on, who knows if the path held fate or not.