Top 10 Best Essays Analyzing the Poem 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' by Tản Đà

Tản Đà is a remarkable literary figure in Vietnam, acting as a bridge between classical and modern literature. The poem 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' expresses a profound dissatisfaction with the triviality of reality, revealing the author's desire to escape into a world of fantasy. At the same time, the poem highlights Tản Đà's bold and innovative approach to writing. The title of the poem is especially striking, as the use of 'want' conveys a yearning for change, a transformation into someone else, specifically, to become Cuội, a legendary figure. From the title alone, the poet's rebellious and romantic nature is evident. This is not merely a distant dream but a very real wish to escape the mundane and insignificant life. In the poem, the author reaches out to the moon goddess Chị Hằng, seeking solace and understanding, which underscores his loneliness and alienation from the world. The autumn night sets the tone for his sorrow, deepening his feelings of isolation. Unlike in traditional literature, where emotions were often subtle, Tản Đà directly conveys his personal grief, breaking away from classical norms. His wish to escape the earthly realm is expressed in a unique manner: he longs to join Chị Hằng on the moon. The probing question 'Has anyone sat in the moon palace?' seems to serve merely as an excuse, as he immediately proposes, 'Please take me to the moon.' The dialogue within Tản Đà's dreamlike world is poetic and tender, reflecting his proud and independent personality. The poet's imagination takes him further, envisioning himself sitting in the moon palace, conversing joyfully with Chị Hằng. There, he finds solace from his sorrow and loneliness, with Chị Hằng as his companion: 'Having friends and a companion makes it joyous, with wind and clouds.' The imagery of wind and clouds makes the poet's soul feel even more liberated and romantic. Tản Đà's boldness is revealed in his wish to set his spirit free and travel with the winds and clouds across the heavens. The final lines express the poet's desire to remain forever in the moon palace. The phrase 'Every year' implies the repetition of time, symbolizing a wish to never leave this place. And in the moon palace, alongside Chị Hằng, he would 'look down and laugh at the world,' a smile that can be interpreted in many ways: as a reflection of the poet's unattainable desire to escape, or as a sneer at the chaotic, dark, and oppressive earthly life. Either way, it conveys the sorrow of someone who seeks to escape reality. The poem, written in the classical seven-character quatrains, adheres to traditional rules while maintaining a sense of freedom and individual expression. Through this poem, Tản Đà shares his deep disillusionment with the society of his time and his yearning to escape into a dream world. The poem is captivating in its bold, imaginative style, powerful emotions, and deeply heartfelt tone.

Tản Đà is a renowned poet with a unique artistic style in the early 20th century Vietnam. His poem 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' is a masterpiece, showcasing his distinct poetic voice: 'The autumn night is so sorrowful, Sister Hằng, oh! / I am already tired of this world.' The opening exclamation expresses profound inner turmoil. The three words 'Chị Hằng ơi!' evoke an intimate, heartfelt plea. Tản Đà had previously written 'Is life worth living?' and now feels 'half tired.' This sadness reflects deep dissatisfaction with the oppressive, colonial-like society of the time, and the failure to achieve success despite his talent. His longing for an escape from this 'corrupt world' is symbolized by his desire to join the moon goddess in the moon palace, far away from his earthly struggles. Through his poetic expressions, Tản Đà not only shows his personal dissatisfaction but also critiques the harsh societal conditions of his time.

Tản Đà Nguyễn Khắc Hiếu is regarded as one of the greatest poets of Vietnam during the early 20th century. His poetry reflects the deep dissatisfaction of an individual who feels disconnected from a mundane and suffocating reality, yearning to escape into dreams. With a free-spirited yet melancholic and rebellious soul, Tản Đà introduced a wave of romanticism into Vietnamese poetry, setting the stage for a new era in literary expression (Hoài Thanh). "Muốn làm thằng Cuội" ("I Want to Be Cuội") is part of the collection *Khối tình con I*, published in 1917. The poem depicts the poet speaking to the moon goddess, Chị Hằng, asking to join her on the moon to escape the frustrating world. The poem follows the traditional form of Đường luật bát cú, a classical Vietnamese verse form. Upon a careful reading, one can see that the poet adheres to the rigid rules of classical poetry but does so with a natural, flowing style, making his words warm, heartfelt, and full of charm. The poem opens with a lament, expressing sorrow and inner turmoil: "The autumn night is so sad, Chị Hằng! The world has become unbearable to me." In Tản Đà's verses, we sense a profound sorrow that is difficult to dispel. Why does Tản Đà, a young man in the prime of life, well-known and full of promise, feel so melancholic? In his *Giải sầu* (1918), Tản Đà wrote, "Since sorrow entered my heart, there are moments of sadness during the day and night." The poet explores the idea of sorrow in many forms—rain that falls, leaves that wither, the moon in the breeze—all contributing to a sense of melancholy. This sorrow is not random or unfounded; rather, it is a sadness tied to the times and human existence. It is a sorrow that only souls of purity and dignity, like Tản Đà's, can experience (Hoài Thanh). Along with this sorrow, Tản Đà expresses his disillusionment with life: "The world has become unbearable to me." His attitude of frustration is deeply rooted in his rejection of a life bound by the rigid and stifling norms of a feudal colonial society. His stance reveals a strong personality, a soul unwilling to conform to societal expectations, unwilling to accept a life of servitude and degradation. Ultimately, Tản Đà's mood is a painful but noble one—a beautiful sadness that calls others to reflect. Deeply dissatisfied with the present, Tản Đà seeks to escape it. This desire to break free from reality was not unique to Tản Đà but was shared by many intellectual youths of the time who felt trapped in a suffocating environment. Many artists sought refuge in alcohol, poetry, or the escapism of the bohemian lifestyle, while others, like Tản Đà, looked to dreams of a utopian, ethereal realm. For Tản Đà, his rebellious nature led him to imagine an escape in a unique and bold way: "Has anyone sat at the cassia palace yet? Please, Chị Hằng, remind me to visit the banyan tree." This imagined escape is ideal: not only does it offer a chance to leave behind the detestable world, but it also provides the opportunity to live in a pure, celestial world alongside a beautiful and compassionate Chị Hằng. What more could one desire? What stands out here is the expression of a longing for freedom. First, the poet poses a question: "Has anyone sat at the cassia palace yet?" Then, he makes a suggestion: "Please, Chị Hằng, remind me to visit the banyan tree." The tone of the poem is naturally playful yet earnest, charming and persuasive. Who could refuse such a delightful invitation? We don't know whether Chị Hằng agreed, but the poet is clearly overjoyed at the thought of living in such a celestial realm: "With a companion, a friend, why feel lonely, Among the winds and clouds, that’s where the joy lies!" Why does Tản Đà feel so happy and fulfilled? Because he has found a soulmate—someone to share his life with, someone to harmonize with the natural world. No longer will he feel alone or sorrowful. His earlier sense of isolation is a reflection of the world's inability to understand him: "In a crowd of people laughing, I am even sadder." In the midst of bustling urban life, how many truly understand the poet's inner world? "Among the stones and trees, Who knows where my true companion might be?" Recalling the loneliness of the past, the poet evokes the image of Bà Huyện Thanh Quan, who also felt isolated among her attendants, surrounded by others but still alone: "A private sorrow, just between me and myself." While the women of the past, like Bà Huyện Thanh Quan, held their sorrow in silence, Tản Đà rejects this. He seeks companionship from Chị Hằng, sharing his dreams with her to ease his troubled soul, opening his heart to the beauty of nature and the purity of an untainted life. The melancholy in the poet's heart appears to have been lifted. His dream of escaping to the moon is both romantic and rebellious. This longing for freedom must have struck many as unexpected. In previous poetry, others had dreamed of ascending to the moon or entering a mythical realm, but none had done so with the same defiance and whimsical nature as Tản Đà. His romantic, rebellious emotions are elevated to their peak with a surprising and meaningful image: "And every full moon night, We will gaze down upon the world, laughing." In Tản Đà's eyes, the dusty world below is now insignificant, and he laughs at the thought. It’s a laughter that is both satisfying and ironic, full of understanding and forgiveness. Satisfied because he has achieved his dream of escape, leaving behind a stifling society. Ironic and forgiving because, to him, the world below seems so tiny—it can no longer constrain a free spirit soaring above it. The final lines are the pinnacle of Tản Đà's romantic and rebellious soul. The poem concludes with the poet’s contentment in having fulfilled his dream of escape. Even decades later, people continue to discuss and reflect on it.

In the first thirty years of the 20th century, Nguyễn Khắc Hiếu, known by his pen name Tản Đà, emerged as a unique literary figure in Vietnam, captivating the public's attention with his remarkable presence. He was a man of two centuries (as Hoài Thanh put it), possessing traits of the last generation of Confucian scholars while embodying the spirit of a modern, democratic individual. His bohemian nature, shaped by his background in the scholar-official class, served as fertile ground for the blossoming of a free-spirited, romantic 'self'. Tản Đà's 'self' was torn between the Confucian ideals of his time and the suffocating reality of society, constantly striving for personal liberation. This conflict ignited a powerful desire to break free from the constraints of the present, evident in his works such as 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' (I Want to Be Cuội). Written within this vein of escapism, along with poems like 'Trời nắng', 'Tống biệt', and 'Hầu trời', 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' was first published in the 1916 collection 'Khối tình con' and could be considered the beginning of Tản Đà's free-spirited, romantic poetic style. To fully grasp the atmosphere of early 20th-century Vietnamese literature, imagine a time when prose written in the national language was still in its infancy, not far removed from the classical literary tradition, when formal, Tang-style poetry still dominated, and newspapers were filled with vernacular versions of folk tales. In such an environment, Tản Đà's unconventional poetry could not help but astonish readers: 'The autumn night is so sorrowful, Oh Hằng!' 'I am weary of this world…' Though still adhering to the traditional eight-line verse form, with classical imagery, Tản Đà's clever manipulation of language transformed the poetry, imbuing it with a fresh, modern spirit. In facing the moon – a timeless muse for poets – only Tản Đà could express the whimsical desire to 'become Cuội,' a playful, almost comical wish. This rebellious, eccentric spirit in Tản Đà's work is key to his distinctive voice. Could it be that the poet, weary of life, sought to take on the identity of Cuội to freely indulge in playful fantasy? But in the poem, light-heartedness blends with deep disillusionment, creating a tone that is both melancholic and lighthearted, a rare quality. Through the poetic voice, Tản Đà articulates his desire: 'The autumn night is so sorrowful, Oh Hằng!' 'I am weary of this world…' 'Is anyone sitting in the moon palace?' 'Please, can you lift the banyan branch up for me to play?' Perhaps only Tản Đà could address Hằng Nga so casually, as if speaking to an old friend, blurring the divine and the mortal. By transforming the celestial moon goddess into a familiar, down-to-earth 'sister,' the poet makes her the confidante of his musings. Everyday expressions like 'I'm so sad, sister!' 'I’m tired of the world…' and 'Can you lift the banyan branch?' flow so naturally within the poem, transforming the formal Tang-style verse into an honest, folk-like expression of inner feeling. In doing so, the poet revives the myths surrounding Hằng Nga and Cuội, but with a twist: he seeks to erase the boundary between the heavenly and the earthly. 'Is anyone sitting in the moon palace?' 'Please, can you lift the banyan branch up for me to play?' A simple phrase, 'lift it up,' with its familiar tone, transforms the poet into a vulnerable figure, like Cuội, not just sitting beneath the banyan tree but wishing to swing from its branches, getting closer to the celestial beauty. For this passionate poet, dreams and reality merge into one. He can lament about the weary world, inviting the goddess to join him in simple, earthly pleasures. 'If I have a companion, I have no regrets,' 'Together with the wind and clouds, that’s the true joy.' The sentiment echoes the later declarations of Xuân Diệu during the new poetry movement, where being a poet meant merging with the wind, dreaming with the moon, and idly wandering with the clouds. Tản Đà was already practicing this philosophy two decades earlier! The poet speaks to Hằng Nga, speaks to another, but perhaps most importantly, speaks to himself: 'If I’m weary of the world, why not escape to the heavens, become friends with the immortals, and find joy there?' And this perspective deepens the impact of the poem, leading to a captivating conclusion: 'Every year, on the full moon of the eighth month, we sit together, looking down at the world and laughing.' The poet lives fully in his dream, crafting a reality that feels as real as life itself. Here, we sense a reversal of roles. The poet is no longer the one granted mercy to ascend to the heavens, but rather, it is Hằng Nga, the moon goddess, who is pulled down to the earthly realm to enjoy earthly pleasures like companionship and laughter. Readers can almost smile as they imagine the scene: while the world gazes up at the moon, yearning for its beauty, Tản Đà, the poet, shares a playful moment with the goddess, laughing together as they look down at the tiny world below. In later works, the inspiration surrounding Hằng Nga and Cuội only pushed Tản Đà’s imagination further. In his travelogue 'Giấc mộng con,' Tản Đà recounts his ascent to the heavens and meeting the immortal Đông Phương Sóc, who reveals his backstory: once, he was a star in the heavenly realm, loved by the gods. But after sending a poem to the moon palace, Cuội intercepted it and presented it to the gods. In their anger, the gods banished him to the mortal realm, where he continued to write poems and songs, still carrying on his playful fantasies with Hằng Nga, further enraging the gods. This story highlights that 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' is just a small poem that opens the door to Tản Đà’s larger body of work, all stemming from his yearning to escape the present reality. In the complex social environment of his time, the desire to ascend to the heavens or retreat into dreams was not necessarily a sign of social despair. 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' stands as an important response by Tản Đà, revealing a sensitive, romantic soul and a free-spirited writing style. The poet's brilliance lies in taking ordinary phrases, turning them into profound expressions that convey unique ideas with a poetic quality. Indeed, the powerful thoughts embedded in this poem broke the conventional molds and limitations of expression, finding a new way to communicate these ideas. In 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội,' we see the beginning of a shift in traditional poetry, heralding the arrival of the New Poetry movement, for which Tản Đà remains an unparalleled pioneer.

Renowned as the bridge between two literary eras, Tản Đà's poetry is wild and unconventional, with content that often surprises and astonishes readers. One of his most famous poems is "I Want to Be Cuoi".

From the very first lines, Tản Đà captivates the audience:

"The autumn night is so sad! Sister Hang, oh!"

"The earthly world has grown so tiresome for me."

These two verses evoke the image of an autumn night with a bright moon shining down on the earth. The poet gazes at the moon and reflects on the myth of the Moon Palace, speaking directly to the moon and Sister Hang with exclamations full of weight. The familiar, natural call to "Sister Hang" is intimate and comforting.

Through these words, the poet shares his sorrow, revealing his disillusionment with life on Earth. Could it be that, living in a repressive society, where the country is without sovereignty, and people are without freedom, those who seek power compete fiercely while neglecting the fate of the nation? Tản Đà, burdened by his own talent yet unable to change the tragic reality, expresses his yearning:

"Has anyone ever sat on the cinnamon bench up there?"

"Sister Hang, would you kindly lift me up with the banyan branch?"

Tản Đà's style can be summed up in one word: "unconventional." His rebellious attitude, disregarding conventional rules that restrict individuality, often leaves readers astonished by his unexpected ideas. His plea for Sister Hang to use the banyan branch to lift him to the Moon Palace is as natural and sincere as a simple request, revealing his longing for transcendence and escape from earthly troubles.

He continues:

"With a friend, with companions, what sorrow can there be?"

"With the wind and the clouds, that's true joy."

Tản Đà expresses a desire to befriend Sister Hang, seeking companionship to alleviate his loneliness. Living on Earth, he feels isolated, unable to find a true friend or soulmate. He longs to be in the Moon Palace, a place of dreams and fantasy, where he could escape his solitude. This wish reflects his desire for freedom and transcendence, to soar with the wind and clouds in the vast, unrestricted space of the heavens.

In the full moon of the eighth lunar month, when the moon is brightest and most complete, some say that one can even see the banyan tree and Cuoi sitting beneath it. Tản Đà imagines himself on the Moon, living in a pure and carefree realm, detached from the dark and oppressive realities of the earthly world. He hopes to look down from the Moon and laugh at the petty struggles of the earthly power-hungry, a laughter that signifies his sense of liberation from the corrupt world he has "grown tired of."

Moreover, this laughter represents a contented release, having escaped the suffocating realities he had long despised. The comma between the words "laugh" emphasizes this idea. Despite the seemingly whimsical nature of his wish to be Cuoi, Tản Đà, like many intellectuals of his time, simply wanted to escape the stifling and desolate reality. They were talented and ambitious but powerless in the face of the times, finding solace in poetry and the desire for escape.

The poem reflects Tản Đà's cherished rebellion in a world overwhelmed by the tumult of the nation's struggles. Reading it, the audience can experience the author's thoughts, as well as the sentiments shared by intellectuals of the period, in a relaxed and open manner.

Tản Đà is a poet who gained fame early on. His poetry is filled with romantic emotions, rich in national identity, and full of fresh innovations. It can be said that his works bridge classical and modern Vietnamese poetry. "I Want to Be Cuoi" is one of his remarkable poems.

The poem is written in the traditional seven-character octet form. It opens with a natural expression, a heartfelt confession of a melancholy sorrow:

"The autumn night is so sad, Sister Hang, oh!"

"The earthly world has grown so tiresome for me."

The poet expresses his sorrow for life on Earth, perhaps even his frustration with his unfulfilled ambitions. The earthly existence he lives in may feel unfair and suffocating. Despite his melancholy, the poet shares his feelings with Sister Hang in a tender and intimate way. His words create a bridge between the mundane world and the universe. The moon, often an inspiration for poets, now becomes the companion to whom the poet confides his grief. The poet seeks help from Sister Hang to escape this grim reality:

"Has anyone sat on the cinnamon bench yet?"

"Sister Hang, could you lift me up with the banyan branch?"

The poet asks directly if anyone has already taken a seat in the Moon Palace, and then requests Sister Hang to lift him up using the banyan branch. Tản Đà wishes to become Cuoi, seeking to transcend the mundane world through a dream of joining the Moon, to keep company with Sister Hang. This rebellious wish, though unconventional, is not one to be despised but rather one to be admired for its purity and nobility.

He yearns for solitude to escape the corrupt, ugly world, to live a life free from the dust and the triviality of earthly existence. The poet's purpose for climbing the Moon Palace is not just to escape his troubles but to seek companionship, to be at peace with the vastness of nature:

"With a companion, with friends, what sorrow could there be?"

"With the wind and the clouds, that's true joy."

His romanticism, tinged with defiance, is endearing, as he wishes to renew his life, to find beauty and purpose. The conclusion of the poem highlights Tản Đà's deep desire: he wishes to be Cuoi to never live again in this confined, dismal world. He will forever dwell in the Moon Palace:

"And every year on the fifteenth of the eighth month,"

"We will gaze down at the world and laugh."

Tản Đà's laughter from the Moon holds multiple meanings. It could be laughter shared with children during the Mid-Autumn Festival, laughing at the struggles of life, or perhaps mocking the society trapped in a transitional phase. It could also be a bitter laugh, like the shattered pieces of glass, or a triumphant one, rejoicing in his escape from the dark world. Within that laughter is a subtle disdain for the earthly existence, mocking the absurdities of society through the poet's eyes. The poem reflects a romantic longing with profound significance. Its vivid imagination is bold, free-spirited, yet graceful and delicate.

The poem captivates the reader, allowing them to empathize with those living in a transitional society, "half-laughing, half-crying." The poet’s romantic soul, tinged with defiance, blends classical and modern elements, creating the beauty of the poem and the essence of the poet himself.

Nguyen Khac Hieu, known as Tan Da (1889 - 1939), was a distinct figure in the Vietnamese literary scene during the early 20th century. He brought a fresh breeze to Vietnamese poetry with his bold defiance, embodying the last of the Confucian scholars and a pioneer in the professionalization of poetry. Tan Da’s work is characterized not just by passionate love and innovative ideas, but also by the raw, unfiltered authenticity in his emotions, even when he delves into a dreamlike world. "Muốn làm thằng Cuội" (I Want to Be Cuoi) reflects a blend of dreams and emotions, capturing the essence of a man who challenges the mundane life. His work, much like a musical prelude, heralds an approaching symphony of change in Vietnamese literature, as noted by literary critics Hoai Thanh and Hoai Chan in *Thi Nhân Việt Nam*. Tan Da's poetry transcends conventional forms, expressing a liberated soul unconstrained by formal styles. His works create a unique space that blends mythology and romance, where figures like Tây Thi, Dương Quý Phi, Chức Nữ, and Hằng Nga — timeless beauties — intertwine with the poet's imagination. While critics have often labeled him as ‘rebellious,’ this label reflects his response to the colonial and feudal society that frustrated him. *Muốn làm thằng Cuội* captures this rebellion. For Tan Da, autumn seemed to intertwine with destiny. From the fleeting recognition of fame to a melancholic autumn night, the poet shared his melancholy with the cosmos: "Autumn is so sad, oh sister Hang, I’m tired of this world already." Tan Da's encounter with the moon is not one of lofty ambition or a desire to marry Hằng Nga, but a gentle, intimate self-expression, as if he’s weary of the human world. The sadness of autumn seems to come not just from the season’s chill but from the existential solitude it evokes. Tan Da’s poetry captures a moment of longing and contradiction, as his desire to escape the world is tempered by a commitment to remain and fulfill his moral duties. His vivid imagination gives rise to profound wishes: "Has anyone sat on the moon yet? I ask sister Hằng to take me there." These verses convey Tan Da’s longing to escape earthly suffering by joining Hằng Nga on the moon. The moon and Tan Da's imagination become a place of solace, where he finds both companionship and peace. The imagery of *Cung Quế* (the moon palace) serves as a metaphor for his yearning to be free from worldly sorrow. In these verses, Tan Da approaches the moon not with desperation, but with understanding and camaraderie, seeking a shared solace in the cosmic loneliness that connects him with Hằng Nga. His words are not pleading but an invitation to join in a mutual understanding of life’s disappointments and dreams: "With friends, with the wind and clouds, what sadness? Together with the breeze, together with the clouds, that’s where joy lies." This reflects his essence as a poet—romantic, full of dreams, and yearning for more than just earthly connections. He wishes to unite with the divine and transcend the limitations of human existence. This theme of transcending earthly sorrow through companionship reaches its peak in the final lines of his poem, where he and the moon laugh together at the follies of the world below. This moment captures the true spirit of Tan Da, as he embraces both the celestial and the human, always seeking balance in the face of life's imperfections. Tan Da’s poetry thus serves as a timeless window into the soul of a man who dared to bare his individuality against the constraints of his era. His works paved the way for the flourishing of romanticism and the rise of modern Vietnamese poetry, continuing to inspire generations of poets, especially during the 1932-1945 era of new poetry.

Tản Đà - Nguyễn Khắc Hiếu emerged on the Vietnamese literary scene in the early 20th century with a unique personality: a poet of sorrow and dreams, rebellious and passionate. His poem 'I Want to Be Cuoi' vividly reflects these traits.

The poem 'I Want to Be Cuoi' was published in the collection 'Khối tình con' (1916). Though written in the classical Chinese-influenced form of the seven-character octet, readers can discern new emotional depths beneath this traditional structure. The poet's feelings, shaped by a new era, softened the formal, restrained nature of this ancient form, bringing simplicity and naturalness that make the poem charming.

The very title of the poem hints at a casual tone, revealing the poet's need to speak openly and frankly, while also showcasing a rebellious, frustrated attitude: the desire to 'be Cuoi' is expressed like any basic, unpretentious desire, as natural as wanting to eat, drink, or sleep... so honest and direct!

If one wishes to transcend earthly bounds, why choose Cuoi among the celestial beings? Choosing 'Cuoi' instead of a more formal title like 'uncle' is a sign of rebelliousness. Clearly, the poet's longing is to ascend to the moon's realm!

'On a sorrowful autumn night, Oh, Chị Hằng,

I am so weary of the earthly world.'

Chị Hằng, the moon goddess, resides on the moon! It turns out that the poet wants to become Cuoi, to share his melancholy with the beautiful Chị Hằng. These opening lines cry out in sorrow, with no need for external metaphors to convey his inner sadness. The simplicity of 'so sorrowful' feels truly heartfelt.

In Tản Đà's poetry, we often encounter an overwhelming sense of disillusionment. The poet's frustration with life is clear—this is not a random sadness, but a profound weariness of the harsh, turbulent world. He had often expressed his disenchantment with life: 'Life is enough to blame, that's all - the weariness, I share with those who understand,' or 'The wind and rain, I'm fed up – thinking about life makes me sad.' Tản Đà's frustration reflects the broader discontent of a society in the early 20th century.

The suffocating atmosphere of a colonized, semi-feudal society weighed heavily on everyone, especially sensitive souls like poets. This universal frustration with life gave birth to deep discontent and dissatisfaction with the era.

For Tản Đà, this despair fueled his desire to escape by living in another realm—an idealized, dreamlike world. He addresses the moon as 'Chị' and speaks to it as if it were his close confidant, a playful form of rebellion. The following four lines reflect Tản Đà's rebelliousness:

'Has anyone sat in the moon palace yet?'

'Will you kindly lift me up to join you?'

This rebelliousness represents a unique response to life's disappointments—a protest against the chaotic, dark world. It is an expression of yearning for a better existence, a plea for escape into a tranquil, celestial domain. The poet suggests that if the moon palace is empty, he would be happy to keep the goddess company, thus easing both of their loneliness. This rebellious attitude is bold!

'With a partner, with a soulmate, that's true joy,

With wind and clouds, that's the real fun.'

The poet's logic for escaping earthly woes is compelling, but beneath this call for escapism lies a deep sense of loneliness and longing for companionship. The poet, ever sensitive, seeks a kindred spirit in the celestial world—something missing in his earthly life, where 'around him are rocks and trees, who knows where to find a soulmate?' The joy he desires is the connection of souls, a true bond. The winds and clouds are poetic and wonderful, but without a companion, they cannot truly be enjoyed.

Thus, his desire to transcend and escape is not merely to leave the mundane, but to find a kindred spirit who shares his soul's longing. This is the true essence of Tản Đà's quest. The vision of joining Chị Hằng on the moon and 'looking down at the world together, laughing' illustrates the poet's romantic idealism at its peak.

Laughing here signals not just a feeling of triumph in his longing to escape but also a mocking, scornful attitude toward the sorrows of the earthly realm. It is a rebellious laugh, a challenge to the mundane world below.

The poem adheres to the classical seven-character octet form but gives it a fresh, natural voice that resembles everyday speech: 'Oh, Chị Hằng, so sorrowful,' 'I am so weary of the world,' 'Has anyone sat here?' 'Please lift me up,' 'That's true joy,' and 'Looking down at the world, laughing.' The informal tone and colloquial style are infused with various emotional nuances, giving the poem a modern twist on a traditional theme.

The 'rebellion' of Tản Đà in this poem reflects the attitude of the early 20th-century Vietnamese intellectuals, expressing both the frustration of their time and a unique emotional voice that was free-spirited and passionate. This blending of dream and rebellion was a distinctly Tản Đà characteristic.

After more than a decade at the dawn of the 20th century, the period of modernization brought with it notable nationalist literary works from figures like Phan Châu Trinh and Phan Bội Châu. This marked a dynamic transformation in Vietnamese literature. From the 1920s onward, bold new writers appeared, revolutionizing both the content and form of their works. They merged the beauty of tradition with the progressive demands of the time, creating striking poetry and prose filled with the hopes and desires of a generation passionate for their country, yet trapped in a world of despair. One of the pioneers of this literary movement was the poet Tản Đà. Tản Đà wrote many works, and just the titles of his poems evoke their unique, dreamy, and romantic qualities: 'Khối tình con I, II, III', 'Giấc mộng lớn', and 'Giấc mộng con'. His poem 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' from the collection 'Khối tình con' is particularly famous and widely regarded as his most distinct. The title alone raises the question: Is this a strange wish, an eccentric dream, or a whimsical and romantic desire? To become Cuội, the mythical figure who ascends to the moon—is this an escape from the mundane world into a celestial, ethereal existence? Why does the poet express such a wish? What does it signify? These questions spark curiosity and captivate the reader. Written in the seven-syllable quatrains of the Đường style and using Nôm characters, Tản Đà's 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' stands apart from other Nôm poems of the late feudal period, as well as the works of Phan Châu Trinh and Phan Bội Châu, who wrote just a few years prior. The tone, style, and language of Tản Đà's work are unmistakably different. The poem opens with a soft, flowing tone, subtly tinged with humor and romance. The poet, expressing a sense of longing, first describes a lonely and melancholic night: "The autumn night is so sad, oh Hằng!" "The mundane world—I'm tired of it already." The use of the personal pronouns 'chị' (older sister) and 'em' (younger sibling) in this context is striking and charming. The poet personifies the moon and feminizes it, calling it 'Chị Hằng', a reference to the Moon Goddess, creating a sense of intimacy and familiarity. Through these terms, Tản Đà crafts a sense of companionship, expressing his feelings of sadness and boredom directly. The melancholy autumn night is a well-known motif in the literature of past poets, from Nguyễn Trãi to Nguyễn Du, from Hồ Xuân Hương to Bà Huyện Thanh Quan. The arrival of autumn often brings a sense of sadness as the weather grows cold, the wind picks up, and nature fades. For Tản Đà, this autumn sadness is also infused with a deeper sense of world-weariness, shaped by his concern for the suffering of his nation. The poem’s imagery of the autumn night blends with the poet’s weariness of the world, prompting him to call out to the moon, perhaps in search of a companion who could understand his sorrow. The moon, in its silent, serene brilliance, seems to be the perfect confidante for Tản Đà’s lonely soul. As the poem progresses, Tản Đà’s wish becomes clear: to leave behind the mundane world and join the moon and the stars, to escape into a realm of peace and beauty. In the following stanzas, the poet vividly expresses this desire with a combination of mythical references and imaginative imagery: "Is anyone sitting in the moon palace?" "May I ask for a seat beneath the moon’s tree." "If there are companions, what need is there for sorrow?" "With the wind and clouds, that would be the true joy." Although these lines don’t adhere strictly to the rules of the Đường style, they are fluid and free-flowing, reflecting the poet’s desire to transcend the traditional constraints of form in order to give full expression to his emotions. Tản Đà’s language here is liberating, and the result is a dreamlike portrayal of his wish to escape to a more joyful, carefree existence. The poet’s wish reaches its culmination in the final lines, where he imagines a vision of celestial companionship with the moon and the stars. This is not just an escape from the earthly realm, but a profound transformation, a realization of an idealized world beyond suffering. The poetic voice moves beyond the boundaries of human life, transcending the pain of the world below. The image of the poet looking down from the moon with a smile hints at a sense of fulfillment, of having found the peace and joy he longed for. Tản Đà's final lines reinforce this sense of liberation: "And every year, on the fifteenth night of the eighth month," "We will sit together, looking down at the world and laughing." This vision is both a symbol of escape and a critique of the human world, with its petty concerns and struggles. In this celestial realm, the poet and his lunar companion can laugh at the foolishness of life. The act of laughing is also a form of self-assurance, of triumphing over the limitations of the human experience. It is both a celebration of freedom and a critique of the flawed world below. Ultimately, 'Muốn làm thằng Cuội' expresses a desire to break free from the stifling, corrupt society and find solace in the imagination, in the dream of joining the moon and the stars. It is a whimsical, rebellious, and romantic vision of escape, encapsulating the poet’s longing for a life of joy, peace, and meaningful connection. The poem’s charm lies in its vivid images, its fresh approach to the traditional Đường style, and its perfect fusion of dreams and reality. In doing so, Tản Đà plays an important role in shaping the modern evolution of Vietnamese poetry, a transformation that marked the dawn of a new literary era.

Tản Đà (1889-1939), whose real name was Nguyễn Khắc Hiếu, was a versatile figure—poet, writer, and renowned playwright of Vietnam. His pen name, Tản Đà, reflects his deep love for his homeland, symbolizing the connection between the Tản Viên mountain and the Đà River, which are iconic elements of his native land.

He emerged as a shining star in early 20th-century Vietnamese literature, bringing a unique and creative style. His romantic poetry, filled with bold ideas, exudes a free-spirited, individualistic energy. He is considered a precursor to the modernist poetry movement in Vietnam, acting as a bridge between classical and modern literature. His works are often noted for their 'rebellious' quality, with one of his most famous poems being 'I Want to Be Cuoi.'

The poem 'I Want to Be Cuoi' was written in 1916 and published in his collection 'Khối Tình Con.' It follows the traditional seven-character quatrain form but reflects Tản Đà's unique style. Despite adhering to classical forms, the poem conveys a fresh emotional expression.

The poem conveys the author's personal reflections during a new era, where the traditional poetic structure loses some of its rigidity. The simplicity of the language and the natural, conversational tone bring a distinctive, creative flair to the work. Though rebellious in spirit, the poem retains a light, humorous, and romantic tone, with a hint of carefree indulgence.

Even the title itself, 'I Want to Be Cuoi,' speaks to a desire to escape the mundane and transcend into the realm of the divine. The poet's longing to be Cuoi symbolizes a wish to leave behind earthly concerns and live among the immortals.

While most people may dream of a life of luxury and pleasure, the poet's dream is to escape to the heavens. The title is intriguing, and it suggests that the poem's content will be even more fascinating. The opening two lines express a melancholic yearning:

'The autumn night is so lonely, Sister Hằng!

I'm tired of this world, I long for more.'

The words come out as a lament, an expression of weariness from a mortal world. The use of the pronouns 'sister' and 'I' creates an intimate, friendly tone, as if the poet and the moon goddess have known each other for ages. The next four lines express the poet's wishes:

'Has anyone ever sat on the moon's palace?

Could you remind me to visit the banyan branch?

If I have a companion, I wouldn't feel lonely,

Playing with the wind and clouds would be so much fun.'

In these lines, the poem departs from the strict rules of traditional Chinese poetry. The lines are not perfectly balanced, and the use of imagery like 'moon palace' and 'banyan branch'—places where only immortals reside—indicates the poet's dreamlike state. These are common elements in Vietnamese folklore, especially the story of Cuoi and the banyan tree.

The poet's dream seems to manifest in the following lines, where he imagines being surrounded by wind and clouds on the moon, enjoying the carefree life of an immortal. The tone is playful, offering readers the sense that they are joining the poet on his whimsical journey to the moon. The closing two lines reveal a surprising twist:

'Then every full moon,

We sit together, laughing as we gaze at the world.'

While Mid-Autumn Festival is traditionally a time for family gatherings under the moon, the poet's vision is quite different. Sitting on the moon with Sister Hằng, watching the festivities below, he laughs—not because of joy, but possibly because he sees the world from a higher, more detached perspective. The poet might be mocking the trivialities of earthly life, or he might be laughing at his own unconventional, rebellious ideas.

Through 'I Want to Be Cuoi,' we see the poet's rebellious spirit and his disdain for the mundane world. He longs to escape to the celestial realm, where he can live freely among the clouds and winds. The poem also highlights Tản Đà's modernization of traditional Chinese poetry, marking a significant step in the evolution of modern Vietnamese literature.