Together with the sad rhythms of the winds, the rain is surfing through the region of murmuring pine trees. Da Lat, in its transitional period, is as blur as the fog in the autumn sky covering the streets. Yellow sunshine flashes through our memory as an image of a hidden time.
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Dalat afternoon drags its day long, an old fragile pine leaf coming off the branch reminds us of our lengthened childhood. On an early morning, I get up and leave the warm bed, suddenly I hear from the hillside, the sound of cheering as loudly as the noise made by miserable warriors from the battlefield bringing back the glory. To the east, the dazzling dawn rages through the thick layers of thick fog that linger overnight, gloating in the darkness. The evening cold wind, the cold air from the region spills over Da Lat, the town shudders slightly. August, it’s early autumn!
In Autumn the trees do not shed leaves, the old pine forest proudly stretches out its branches to embrace the streets. Dalat season does not have autumnal winds, with no sign of clear recognition. People feel the beauty of the transition of nature, the experience has accumulated over the days. Dalat changes the season with the sound of whispering whine and the soaked rain, and the mist covering the city.
Dalat in its transition to autumn, sometimes dark clouds dominate the space like the beasts arranging the battle against the sun. The war of the seasonal transition is always pulling about. Winners reign joy, spraying rain, sunshine. The defeated withdraw, waiting for the opportunity to take revenge. In sunshine, in rain, neither party will submit. During Da Lat August, the sky is like a young girl in her adulthood and has just fallen in love, sometimes is in the sulks. The sunshine of the whole day has become a great luxury on this land.
Dalat in early autumn, the rain covers the city, showering tourists with wet rain drops The Willow trees on the river banks are soaked in water, drooping in reflections. The rhythm of life in autumn paused to receive more gusts of chill together with the coming wind. Tourists slightly shudder at the cold but want to sit up the night to walk in the streets to enjoy the special weather which could not be found elsewhere. To the residents here, autumnal life going past is as light as feather. Unsatisfied, wildly instinctive artists are always fearful of the spirit of AQ. The wanderer indulges his duty, upon the decline of his life, and in his misfortune, lies alone looking at the drops of the rain, startles to realize he is already old, and life passes as fast as lightning ...
Đà Lạt August, it is early autumn!..
(Ngô Khắc Lịch)
