Day one of blogging

Date: 5/6/2025

The beauty of Vietnamese's adjective

(Yes I am proud of being Vietnamese. So obviously my first topic will be something from my country. Heck I even have a Vietnamese porcelain pattern of 2 fishes as my first tattoo, that's how much I love my country's culture.)

Usually, I prefer writing in Vietnamese more, not because it was my mother's tougue, nor because it just came out naturally to me, but because simply I've learned how to love it. When you've loved someone, or something, your eyes apply on a filter that makes you see all good things as beautiful and all "bad" things tolerable. It makes you think life is worth living for another day - that is how my love with literature is.

If were to ask my favourite part of Vietnamese grammar, I'd say it's probably adjective, because it might be not as important as verbs and nouns in terms of basic context, it is crucial to let others know about details that made up a complete picture. It's a glue-like substance to keep the paragraph together, to be complete, to thicken the concoction of words. And unlike verbs or nouns, which can only be categorized by how rare it is often used and less of how simple it is, adjectives are usually easily to be classified into more complex or less compound than the others, sometime complex adjectives are also used less, but surely that's not the case for all of them.

Vietnamese is a complex language, not only there is a lot of words to use, the system is also very complex. But it is very worth it, because of how beautiful this language is. As an example, I'd like to show you my personal favourite Vietnamese adjectives - keep in mind, these translations of mine are not accurate because most of these words cannot be fully translated into English, and so is the quotes:

Lấp lánh (sparkling)

Although this is not a từ ghép (two words that made up a word), so splitting up lấp and lánh doesn't make sense in this context, but as standalone words, lấp and lánh both means avoiding and unseen (lấp - bury and lánh - avoid). So when these two stand together as lấp lánh, it's like a treausure you've always been looking for, so when you found it, it's became both beautiful, worthy and sparkling.

“Những chữ xơ xác nhất mà chúng ta đã nói đến cạn cùng, mất sạch tính hình tượng đối với chúng ta, những chữ ấy trong thơ ca lại lấp lánh, lại kêu giòn và tỏa hương.” - Konstantin Paustovsky

(The most worn-out words, which we have exhausted and have lost all their imageries, sparkle, crackle, and perfumed in poetry.)

Tha thiết (earnest)

Honestly, I don't think the English translation is doing this word justice. Tha thiết it's a từ láy (two words that have similar pronouniciation in some part - for example here, the "th" is the same), which made from tha and thiết. Tha in here has the same pronounciation and writing as tha in tha thứ and tha tội (forgive), but it means rubbing (chà xát), and thiết means cutting and sharpening (cắt và mài). Thiết tha can be used to descibe love or just a intense determination with something, but I love it when it is used to describe love more. This word actually was originated from “như thiết như tha”, or "như khắc như mài" (like carving, like grinding) and was used to describe the act of carving and sharpening, but was later used to describe love, because the feeling is so lasting, so hard to be forgotten, it's like being carved into one's heart.

"Thiết tha với ai đó là như mài vào lòng dạ."

(Being earnest with someone is like cutting and stabbing your own guts.)

"Mình về mình có nhớ ta? Mười lăm năm ấy thiết tha mặn nồng." - Tố Hữu

(Now returning, do you still think of me? Those fifteen years of earnestly and warmth.)

Vấn vương (lingering)

Vấn and vương both means linger, although usually, when standalone, they are used to describe nouns (more precisely, vấn is usually used to describe the act of a scarf, or a fabric wrapping around something or someone, while vương is usually used to describe the linger of smokes, getting sticked with something), but together, they create a word that is both romantic and troubling - such is the act of always being constantly reminded of something, trying to forget it but can't. It'll always linger on your mind, like a rope that will never let go, like a smoke that refuse to dissipate.

Dùng dằng (hesitant)

Dùng dằng means hesitating, unsure if one should stay or leave, because of wanting to buy more time. Some people also use this word to describe the act of procrastinating, but personally I like to use it as the hesitate and unwanting feeling of saying farewell.

"Quân tử dùng dằng đi chẳng dứt, Đi thì cũng dở ở không xong." - Hồ Xuân Hương

(The noble man wavers, can't depart, To go feels wrong, to stay breaks the heart.)

"Con sông dùng dằng con sông không chảy Sông chảy vào lòng nên Huế rất sâu - Thu Bồn

(The river hesitates, refusing to flow Flowing into the heart, eroding Hue deeply.)

Honourable mention: Thương (love)

Even I do include the translation, thương is a word that couldn't be translate to any other language, nor it is an adjective (it's a verb). It's much deeper than love, and it is the most platonic form of love - it's the mutual care, empathy and looking out to each other. When you care about someone so much and so deeply, you "thương" them, thương is not only used in romantic contexts, quite the opposite, it usually is used to describe the bond between a mother and her child, or the unsaid pledge of alliance between comrades. It is sometimes used with yêu (love) which makes yêu thương, but the word yêu is only complementary to yêu, since thương is much deeper and broader. If yêu (accurate translation of love) is a river that runs through the land, watering the crops and making then florish, then thương is the ocean, deep, vast and enveloping.

"Cháu thương bà biết mấy nắng mưa!" - Bằng Việt

(How I love you, Grandma through sun and rains.)