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A beautiful afternoon sun on Sunday . The wind is rising in the old forest . The radio station is broadcasting the international music program . Sitting in a small room , I feel that this scenery is so peaceful . Suddenly , I forget all about the bomb , bullet , fire and sword , all about death and grief . Within my soul , there is only boundless inspiration with the piece of music .
I don't know if it is blamable or laudable . It is blamable because I forget the continuous pangs of my nation , the crime of bloodthirsty predator who keeps trampling upon my native soil . However , it is laudable because from myriads of hardship , I am still throbing with emotion in the optimistic hope of vitality . It is the fresh hope within my soul .
Dear Phuong ,in the North , do you usually feel painful when looking at the parting scenery in every Vietnamese house ? Here , I feel a hundred thousands times clearer about that sad situation . But I still hope that both you and I will not loose the joy and dream in our hearts . Be as we used to be before , my dear sister! And on Sunday afternoon , we will listen to the international music program together , and we will always write down on our diaries . Life is still dreamlike even when bombs are continuously falling around us ."

One more fellow has lain down . He had a wound through the belly . After the surgery , his condition is not good but worse . May be because of the internal bleeding , when the unfound shell fragment cut the blood vessel . Holding a consultation , all of people don't agree with operating again . But I myself hesitated .Finally , he died -his death made me think a lot . Why did he die ? Because of my demur ? May be . If I were determined , at least in 100% hope of existence , he could have had 10% . I followed the tail of the mass , skipping a should-be-done work .
He died . In his breast pocket is a small notebook that contains some pictures of a girl with charming smile , and a letter telling about her faithful expectation . There is also a handkerchief embroidered with a line :" WAITING FOR YOU " . Alas ! The girl in the rear ! Your lover will never come back . Your mourning head-band you will have to wear on your young hair is the result of the crime of killers - The American imperialism . And my regret , I'm a doctor who didn't rescue him when I was able to do ! "

Yesterday , we attacked the enemy in Duc Pho . The whole area was burnt in our army's vindictive hatred fire . One of the martyrs was Luc - a wounded soldier who had recovered and continued fighting . Luc died on the first belligerent days after convalescing . In my eyes now is clearly the picture of a boy with intelligent eyes and a consistent countenance . Luc usually carried red tie* which had a line : " Swear to die voluntarily for the life of native land ."And the warm singing usually resounded in afternoons : " How beautiful our country is , in the bright moonlight when the cloud is flying around our feet ..."
Luc ! Did you die? Why is your singing still resounding behind my ears ? And why is your handwriting in letters you wrote to me still so fresh ? You are like Bon , Khiem , like heros sacrificing their lives for the victorious future . All of you will still be alive in my mind and in our people's soul . "
* red tie is like the small flag wore by Vietnamese pioneers .

Although we prepared before , when the event occured , there are still unsucess and difficulties . This morning , followed by the opinion of steering commitee yesterday , all of serious wounded soldiers have move into another area. Because we think that the enemy may scour the infirmary.
Earlier than 6 o'clock , I urged fellows to bring wounded soldiers . And I also carried lots of things along with them . Carrying over the slope , people's sweat was dripping on their cheeks - but can't linger to wait until it dried up . I encouraged them to come back and carried the last 3 injuried soldiers left behind .
After nearly one and a half hour later , some salvos exploded very closely . I thought mentally enemy might come to the infirmary so I decided to warn so that soldiers could get ready . Not having done that ,I was told by the ethnic guerilla that enemy had come to the ditch . People run away straight forward .
The whole force having task to carry wounded hadn't come here . There are 5 cases left but there is only me , Tam and some students . " Can't leave injured soldiers , try our best to carry them , my fellows !"- I said in a divided mind when opposite to me were some pale and skinny teenagers . The circumstance was much more dangerous when Tam and Quang ran towards me and informed that enemy had come nearer - at the stream .
Some cases moved , but there was Kiem - a soldier who was having femur fracture . Not being able to manage , I called a student named Ly to carry him together . Kiem was so big and heavy that 2 women couldn't lift him .We made our arduous effort but could just drag him out of the house . Leaving him alone , I had to go and call some more fellows . Luckily , I met Minh , Co . But they were loosing their breath , announcing that the enemy had shot down Van - an injured soldier . We trailed Kiem and run away , jumping into a pit to hide .
One hour later , we gathered together all of wounded soldiers - just lack of Van only . As for revolutionary cadres , there were 9 comrades absent .
We decided to move to Ho Sau to take advantage of the terrain and food of the 120 unit like our plan the day before .
The displacement was mighty miserable . It may be as unfortunate as the other times our infirmary was bombed and ambushed , but more arduous because we couldn't rely on anyone . Some ailing comrades that never carried wounded soldiers previously had to get a task to carry one case , wandering up hill and down dale to move into the new location .
Weary , hungry and trembling , but my comrades and I were extremely calm. Because we have grown up after some fierce years .
At 4 o'clock , we moved into our location .
And when the night came , the forest was inundating with moonlight . After asking after my wounded soldiers who didn't have any serious change , I came back , lying and comtemplating the brillian moonlight . I couln't think .
Full 2 years . Also in the April , also in the moon season , I undertook a task in Duc Pho when the infirmary had been destroyed after the bombed . It's April again ... Sunshine in the South is always intense . And my disgust is as intense as that sunshine in summer . This afternoon , standing on the top of a high mountain , I watched the old infirmary going up in smoke and my eyes dewed with tears . So much perspiration and effort , so much wealth of people who had saved to support injured soldiers , now it was burnt to the ground ! What can I say , my comrades ! What can I say except a muttable philosophy of a Vietnamese " There is no better way than beating so that there will be no more an American invader existing in our country . "

" 18.5.69
The fighting situation is continuous , day and night , the shot was still resounding , the sound of helicopter is still screaming in the space and every night the rockets are still blazing in the sky . The war is more and more violent , our soldiers are lying in the battle , lethal weapons , broiling sun and smoke make their skins tanned . The liberation soldiers ! In myriads of peril and danger , you are the people who have to undergone most . Your blood penetrates into the flag and the soil you are protecting . At this time , I feel more poignant than ever about your heroic sacrifice . How holy ... I know that many of you come from the North . And there are also many people who have had peaceful day and set food in this fierce scene recently . Last time , I met some very young scouts . They must be secondary students who have left the pens and got the rifle to be against the American soldiers , preserve our country ."

Come on ! I need your feedback ! Did my translation so complicated that you don't understand ?
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one more thing I want to tell you that : This diary was translated into English , but I have never read it before . This is my own translation . Don't misunderstand
Good job, blue clown. The tale of Bon is very touching, and the experiences of Dang Thuy Tram are very revealing of the horrors of war. It is too bad that her patriotism obscures the realization that war is the same for the foot soldiers on both sides.
I appreciate having the opportunity to read this diary through your translation,
thank you blueclown.
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Your translation provides a small window into a world that most never see or can even begin to understand. I have read all of your posts with great interest and want to say thank you for taking the time to do this. You said that the Dairy had been translated into English; do you know where it can be found? I have searched for such with no success. And do you also know of the work entitled “Forever 20 Years of Age?” Also currently very popular in Vietnam. Thanks again for your efforts; a wonderful piece of work.
This is the first time I have translated a text from Vietnamese into English . So some of my sentences may be stupid . But what I want is just portraying a whole beautiful soul of a Vietnamese girl . Your comments mean a lot to me . Thanks you from the bottom of my heart . And why don't you tell me how you feel about Dang Thuy Tram? Everything you feel even when it is little bit vague .
THANKS A LOT FOR READING !!!Emotion: big smileEmotion: big smileEmotion: big smile
As for the wish of anonymous , I will trhoy to contact with Fred , who published that diary . Forever 20 , i think , is not translated into English because it is like a literature tale and very difficult to be translated into another language . By the way , where are you from ? Why don't you register as a member of this forum . You are always greeted . This forum is very very helpful .
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I read your words, your translation of Ms. Tram’s words, over and over again; at times with tears in my eyes. I’m afraid I can not share in public my feelings about Dang Thuy Tram and her words; they are far too special to me and I do not have the ability to express those feelings so well. Her words touch my heart as the words and lives of so many Vietnamese have done. And I feel pain and shame for the past and now for the present; so much death and destruction for no good reason. Ms. Tram’s Dairy and the work of Dang Vuong Hung (Mai Mai Tuoi 20) should be required reading for all people of the world.

I am a man probably much like Fred; but was never in the war. I have worked regularly in Vietnam since 1991, mostly in higher education (I am a teacher). I have a Vietnamese wife and a 19 year old Vietnamese step daughter. The step daughter lives with me in the U.S. and my wife still works in Vietnam. Vietnam has become my second home for me; yet at times I feel it is my first home. I regret that I am not able to master the language.

From an English point of view, your translation seems very good to me; few places am I tempted to polish your words. I can feel in your approach to this task a heart and soul filled with words of their own. As Ms. Tram’s words bring tears to my eyes, I often receive words from my current and former students that do the same. The often write with a simplicity and clarity that others can not capture. And of course their experiences, while different from those of Ms. Tran are none the less challenging, demanding and character building. I have noticed that my step daughter, who has started university in the U.S., writes with a depth and passion that we seldom see in our American students.

Well, enough! Perhaps too much! Keep giving us more insight into this lady and those times. I will be watching for your posts on a regular basis.
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