Top 7 Best Essays Analyzing the Author's Emotions in the Poem 'Qua Đèo Ngang'

The poem 'Qua đèo ngang' by Bà Huyện Thanh Quan was written during her journey to the imperial capital Huế to take up a government position. The poem expresses the deep longing for home and family of a woman far from her homeland, reflecting the emotional vulnerability of women in a foreign land. The poet's calm, gentle style is evident throughout this piece.

'Climbing the mountain, two peaks in sight,

My heart longs for Hà Tĩnh, my thoughts for Quảng Bình.'

In between two places of longing, the poet carries the emotions of a woman deeply connected to the natural world. Using a simple, reflective style, Bà Huyện Thanh Quan captures the heart of the reader. As she travels towards Phú Xuân, the poet encounters the scenery of Đèo Ngang, which evokes the sadness of a girl far from home, filled with nostalgia:

'Arriving at Đèo Ngang, with the sun low,

The grass and trees crowd the rocks, flowers bloom.'

The scene is set at dusk, a time of emptiness and quiet. If the poet had chosen 'golden sunlight' instead, the image would have been more vibrant. The choice of twilight, however, stirs feelings of nostalgia, becoming the emotional trigger for the poet's reflections.

The desolate landscape evokes a sense of loneliness; yet, the use of the word 'chen' emphasizes solitude, suggesting that life is fading as plants desperately cling to survival on barren land.

'Bent over the mountain, a few woodcutters pass by,

Scattered houses by the river.'

Here, humans appear in the landscape, but their presence only intensifies the emptiness. The term 'a few woodcutters' implies the fragility of life, evoking an ephemeral, fading existence. The poet's use of inversion in these lines further emphasizes the barren and desolate nature of the mountain pass.

The repeated use of 'lom khom' and 'lác đác' highlights the difficulty and fragility of life. These metaphors speak to a yearning for human connection, for the warmth of life, but in the end, it is only an illusion. In this remote place, the poet wonders where she might find a companion to share her feelings.

'Longing for my country, my heart aching with pain,

Missing home, my voice weary with longing.'

The following lines awaken the latent sorrow of the traveler. The sound of the cuckoo bird echoes softly, bringing to life the deep emotional yearning for the homeland and family. The poet delicately employs a dynamic description to convey the stillness of the scene, amplifying her sorrow for her country, and the painful experience of being a woman alone in a strange land.

'Stopping to rest, contemplating the vast sky and river,

A solitary heart, just me with myself.'

The final lines bring the poet’s emotional journey to a climax. The act of stopping reflects a pause in the narrative, emphasizing the poet's feelings of isolation. The vastness of the mountains and rivers only amplifies her loneliness. The more expansive the landscape, the more intense her solitude. Through these verses, we feel the poet's deep emotional conflict, her longing for connection in a world that feels overwhelmingly empty.

This poem encapsulates the elegance of Bà Huyện Thanh Quan’s poetic style, blending vivid natural imagery with deep emotional resonance, creating a timeless portrayal of love for the homeland and its people.

Among the great female poets in ancient Vietnamese literature, two names stand out: Hồ Xuân Hương and Bà Huyện Thanh Quan. While Hồ Xuân Hương's poetry is sharp and bold, Bà Huyện Thanh Quan's style is more serene, profound, and nostalgic…

As I approach Đèo Ngang, the sun sets low,

Where grass and trees intertwine with rocks, leaves embrace the flowers.

Hunched down beneath the mountain, a few woodcutters work,

Scattered by the river, a few shops stand alone.

My heart aches for the country, the cuckoo's cry echoes,

I long for home, the dry lips of the cicada call out.

Pausing to rest, I stand before the vastness of the landscape,

Alone, my thoughts are mine and mine alone.

The poet's real name was Nguyễn Thị Hinh, born in the early 19th century in Nghi Tàm village, near West Lake, in the ancient capital of Thăng Long. Coming from a family of officials, she was talented, beautiful, and proficient in the Nôm script. She was invited by King Minh Mệnh to the imperial capital of Phú Xuân to serve as a lady-in-waiting. Her husband, Lưu Nghi, was the district head of Thanh Quan in Thái Bình, and so, she came to be known as Bà Huyện Thanh Quan.

She left behind only six poems in the classical seven-character form: "Qua Đèo Ngang", "Chiều hôm nhớ nhà", "Thăng Long thành hoài cổ", "Chùa Trấn Bắc", "Chơi Đài Khán Xuân Trấn võ", and "Tức cảnh chiều thu".

Her poetry often evokes themes of twilight, loneliness, and a lyrical tone, blending refined language with a beautiful, skilled poetic soul.

On her journey to Phú Xuân, as she neared Đèo Ngang in the late afternoon, the poet was overcome with emotion. In this poem, she describes the desolate landscape of Đèo Ngang during sunset, reflecting the loneliness and homesickness of a female traveler.

As the poet steps toward Đèo Ngang, standing at the base of the grand mountain pass, marking the natural boundary between Hà Tĩnh and Quảng Bình, at the hour when "the sun is setting"—the light now at an angle, already beginning to fade. The word "tà" (slanting) evokes a sense of sadness. The second line paints the scene with vivid imagery: grass, trees, leaves, and flowers mixing with rocks.

The two halves of the verse mirror each other, the repeated use of the word "chen" (intertwine) creates an almost musical rhythm, paired with the sounds of "stone" and "leaf", "slanting" and "flower". The poet’s skillful choice of words conveys both the natural beauty and the poignant solitude of Đèo Ngang two centuries ago. "Grass and trees intertwine with rocks, leaves embrace the flowers." Only wildflowers, like sim and mua, can thrive here, pushing through the rocks. The scene is stark and raw, yet deeply moving.

In the next verse, the poet employs inversion and contrast, further enhancing the emotional impact. The rhythm of the poem is both soothing and captivating, filled with subtle elegance:

“Hunched down beneath the mountain, a few woodcutters work, Scattered by the river, a few shops stand alone.” The perspective shifts, from a high vantage point down to a more distant one. The human presence is sparse, with only "a few woodcutters" laboring tirelessly to carry firewood. This is a poetic image rooted in the tradition of depicting rural life, but it is presented with delicate sensitivity.

The shops by the river are few, scattered in the vastness. The phrase "a few shops by the river" is crafted to fit the rhyme scheme and further accentuate the desolation of the scene, as the poet stands in the lonely pass, at the moment when the sun dips below the horizon.

The poet next brings in the sound of birds, the cuckoo and cicada calling out at dusk. The repeated sound of "con cuốc cuốc" and "cái gia gia" creates a melodic echo, a reflection of both the natural symphony and the inner turmoil of the traveler. Using the sound of birds to highlight the stillness of the mountain pass at sunset is a perfect example of the art of using motion to describe stillness in classical poetry:

"My heart aches for the country, the cuckoo's cry echoes,

I long for home, the dry lips of the cicada call out."

The call of the birds brings forth a deep longing for the homeland, a yearning that stretches through the valleys and mountains back to her beloved land. The emotional intensity is palpable, weaving together nostalgia for the capital, her family, and the familiar village of Nghi Tàm, all conveyed with profound subtlety.

The four words "dừng chân đứng lại" (pause, stand still) express an overwhelming sense of emotion, evoking a deep sense of melancholy. The poet's gaze sweeps across the vastness of the landscape, capturing the expansive "heaven and water" around her, yet in the midst of this infinity, she feels utterly alone, with nothing but "one piece of private sentiment"—a personal, solitary thought of her own. The contrast between the vast universe and the singularity of her feeling accentuates the loneliness of a traveler, distant from home, standing in the fading light of Đèo Ngang.

"Dừng chân đứng lại trời non nước,

Một mảnh tình riêng ta với ta."

"Qua Đèo Ngang" is a masterpiece in the seven-character octosyllabic verse form. The poem presents the breathtaking beauty of Đèo Ngang, steeped in a melancholy mood, where the rich sound of the verses resonates like a heartfelt melody. The use of inversion and parallelism creates a vivid scene that speaks to the heart. The poet's deep affection for her homeland and its natural beauty is reflected in every line, revealing a timeless love for both the land and the people.

"Qua Đèo Ngang" is not only the voice of the poet, but a heartfelt expression shared by countless others, a poem that transcends time and remains ever relevant, echoing through the ages.

The poem 'Passing Through Ngang Pass' has captivated readers for centuries. Its impact lies not only in its soft, emotional language but also in the poetic style frequently used by classical poets: using nature to express emotions.

Ngang Pass marks the first stop on the journey south for a mission. Far from home, family, and loved ones, the poetess is filled with longing. The first artistic signal that readers perceive is the 'dying sunset.' At this point, the sun is about to set, and the twilight gradually descends, the universe fading into a quiet, empty void. Only faint remnants of sunlight remain. The term 'dying' suggests something nearing its end, disappearing. The space and time evoke a melancholy, especially felt by a traveler far from home:

Echoing the calls of distant birds in the evening,

A heavy heart yearns for mother, a painful ache stirs inside.

Evening, specifically the twilight, heightens the feelings of nostalgia. The poetess expresses that this moment is the most appropriate for revealing her longing. The traveler walks briskly, just like a bird rushing to find shelter, while children call their friends back to the village. This sentiment is echoed not only in this poem but also in 'Evening Reflections on Home'.

The evening sky shrouded in the dimming glow of the setting sun,

The last rays of the day intensify the mood of yearning. Hoanh Son is renowned for its grand yet rugged beauty. In this setting, the poet observes how nature’s flora and fauna scramble to embrace the last rays of sunlight. Alone on the summit of a treacherous mountain, the sense of emptiness becomes even more pronounced. Even though the scenery is beautiful—grasses, trees, flowers, rivers, and seas—the poetess suddenly remembers, or more accurately, the images of her family and homeland come flooding back. This is also the moment when the evening meal awaits, and the family will soon gather together... Yet here she is, alone in a foreign land.

Just as the poet’s heart begins to ache, a distant scene below the pass appears:

Lowly under the mountain, a few woodcutters toil,

Scattered along the riverbank, a few market stalls stand.

The scene of life feels desolate: a few woodcutters bent over their work, a handful of market stalls leaning precariously. The inversion used here is very meaningful; this image evokes comparisons to a monotonous, barren existence. It is the stark contrast to the lively, bustling capital. The poet is in search of life, but the Ngang Pass only brings disappointment. The two lines, when placed side by side, paint a picture of desolate, lifeless existence in this remote pass.

In this quietude, a distant sound rises—soft, rhythmic calls of the cuckoo and the gia gia bird. Legend has it that after the defeat of King Liu Bei by Luu Tuan of Eastern Wu, he fled to Bai Di City and died there. Upon his death, the spirit of Liu Bei transformed into the cuckoo, symbolizing the sorrow of losing the kingdom. The haunting calls of the bird in the evening evoke a sense of longing and sorrow, which reminds one of the lines of poetry:

Here, the mountains rise all around,

Loneliness prevails, no soul in sight,

The high pass, narrow and steep,

Just a few abandoned huts scattered here.

The sounds of the cuckoo and gia gia could either be perceived as the poet’s personal reflection or an artistic metaphor expressing her deep emotional state. At this point, the poetess' sentiments resonate with the tragic fate of Liu Bei, who, like her, longs for memories of a glorious past. The bird’s call reflects the poet’s deep yearning for her homeland and family. Is it the memories of the Lê dynasty she once knew that haunt her? The poet’s feelings reject the present and retreat into the past. As Nguyen Du once said, 'The sorrowful soul finds no joy in the surroundings.' In this situation, that quote is entirely fitting.

Together with Hồ Xuân Hương and Đoàn Thị Điểm, Bà Huyện Thanh Quan stands as one of the most prominent female poets of the 18th century. While Hồ Xuân Hương’s poetry is sharp and distinct, Đoàn Thị Điểm’s is gentle yet profoundly nostalgic, especially when reflecting on the lost glory of the past and her longing for home. The poem 'Passing Through Ngang Pass' is one of her most famous works.

Bà Huyện Thanh Quan often wrote about nature, particularly in the evening, evoking a sense of quiet solitude. Her poetic imagery resembles that of traditional Chinese ink paintings, subtle yet vivid, often using symbolism to convey deep emotions tied to the past—expressed through nature’s beauty and simplicity.

"Walking to Ngang Pass, the twilight shadows fall,

The grass and trees crowd the rocks, the leaves and flowers intermingle."

As the poetess steps into Ngang Pass, it is the moment when evening settles in. The image of the 'dying light' not only paints a picture of the sky as the sun sets, but also suggests the slow, lingering movement of the clouds. The space feels vast yet empty, capturing the loneliness and detachment of the traveler. The phrase 'grass and trees crowd the rocks, leaves and flowers intermingle' uses repetition to evoke both the density of nature and the raw, untouched quality of the mountainside.

"Bending low under the mountain, a few woodcutters,

Scattered along the river, a few market stalls."

The word 'bending' captures the image of the woodcutters returning home as the evening falls, while 'scattered' emphasizes the sparse, desolate feeling of the surroundings. In these two lines, the presence of people seems diminished, their figures shrinking in the vastness of the landscape. The scene of life, though present, adds no warmth to the melancholy atmosphere; it only deepens the sense of emptiness, especially as the market stalls stand lonely and abandoned.

The widening view brings further isolation, a profound loneliness for a traveler in a foreign land:

"The pain of missing the homeland aches my heart,

The longing for home makes me weary, my lips parched."

The twilight hours, with their quiet, sorrowful ambiance, often evoke a yearning for one’s homeland, especially for those far from home. This is the time when families gather together, sharing warmth and comfort. Yet, in this desolate space of Ngang Pass, the poetess’s heart is filled with longing for her family, her homeland—an aching, almost unbearable sadness.

The Ngang Pass, with its sky, mountains, and waters, presents a vast, alien landscape:

"Stopping, I stand still amidst the sky and mountains,

Just a fragment of a personal memory, only for myself."

In the face of the immense and overwhelming expanse of nature, one cannot help but feel both small and intensely aware of their solitude. For Bà Huyện Thanh Quan, alone on her journey, the vastness only heightens her loneliness. 'Stopping' implies a brief rest for the body, but it also opens up a world of inner yearning—her deep, personal longing for home. In this vast and overpowering world, she stands alone, carrying with her only her solitary memories—'a fragment of a personal memory, only for myself.'

Thus, 'Passing Through Ngang Pass' stands out for its poignant sadness and profound homesickness. The poetess not only expresses her deep love for her homeland but also reflects the isolation and solitude she feels in the vast, empty world around her.

Is there anywhere more beautiful

Like the rivers, the mountains, like the people of Vietnam?

This verse expresses pride and admiration for the landscapes of Vietnam. The nature of our homeland is dreamlike, full of vitality. As a result, nature has always been an endless source of inspiration for poetry. Sometimes it shimmers, enchanting like a dream, other times it shines brightly, regal like the sunlight. Yet, it can also take on a melancholic and forlorn tone when viewed through the eyes of poets with a deep, reflective soul, as they write poems inspired by the present moment. This is reflected in the words of the great poet Nguyen Du: 'A person in sorrow finds no joy in the scenery.' This verse is particularly fitting when we think of the poetess Ba Huyen Thanh Quan with her poem 'Through Ngang Pass.'

As she stepped onto Ngang Pass, the evening shadows fell. The grass and trees crowded the rocks, leaves intertwined with flowers. A few woodcutters were bent over by the mountain, while a few houses dotted the riverside market.

The verse includes the image of the setting sun and the repetition of the word 'crowded' to convey a sense of solitude and stillness. The word 'setting' suggests something fading away, vanishing. The passage of time adds to the sadness of the poem. Folk songs, too, capture such sentiments:

'I hear the wild ducks' call at dusk,

Longing for my mother, my heart aches.'

This shows that deep, noble feelings of longing seem to converge at one point: time. And the best moment to express such yearning is the evening. In 'Through Ngang Pass,' the poetess evokes a nostalgic feeling when she sees the sunset enveloping the Hoanh Son landscape. The surroundings seem even emptier because of the repetition of the word 'crowded' in the second line. Despite the natural beauty of the place—grass, trees, rocks, and flowers—the isolation of Ngang Pass in the evening becomes more poignant. The poet, seeking signs of life, observes the woodcutters and the few market stalls below the pass:

The image of woodcutters laboring in the fading light, and the scattered market huts, evokes a feeling of quiet desolation. The juxtaposition of the phrases 'a few' and 'a few' further emphasizes the emptiness of this place. Among this quiet, the soft, mournful calls of wild birds echo in the fading light.

The words 'heartache' and 'thirst' convey a sense of yearning, of deep longing. The phrase 'longing for my country, missing my home' is not just an expression of the birds' song but also a metaphor for the poetess' own emotions towards her homeland and family. Is this not the deep, unspoken sentiment of Ba Huyen Thanh Quan herself, reflected through the artistry of her words?

The parallelism in the poem's lines emphasizes the poetess' love for her country and family in a masterful and subtle way. The scene at Ngang Pass prompts her to reflect on her own life, leading her to write:

Standing still, gazing at the sky, the mountains, and the water,

One private moment, just me with myself.

The final lines of the poem reveal the poetess' deep sorrow for the past. As she stops and observes, she sees only the vastness of nature—sky, mountains, and rivers. The universe seems so immense, and she feels small, alone, and isolated. In this vastness, she is left with only herself, her personal feelings of longing for her country and her family. The poetess' emotions of loneliness and longing resonate in the contrast of such vastness, with only 'me with myself.' The wide universe, her solitude, all become a poignant expression of the poet's heart, skillfully conveyed by Ba Huyen Thanh Quan. This is a masterpiece of poetry, where even 'me with myself' carries a profound, delicate artistry. The poet Nguyen Khuyen, too, expressed something similar in his work.