The Moon Boy

Long, long time ago there was a clever boy whose name was Cuoi. He did nothing with his cleverness but to play trick on people around him. He lived with his uncle and aunt who were usually suffered from his cheats.

Once day Cuoi came to the field and broke the bad new to the uncle that his wife had fell down from the ladder and bled. The man was so frighten that he ran to his home without saying a word. Cuoi at that time reached the house before his poor uncle by a short cut then broke another bad new to his aunt that her husband was collided by the buffalo and was going to died. The poor woman was scared and immediately ran out to the field. Suddenly she bumped to a man and recognized that it was her husband who was panting and sweating like her. The poor couple came back with anger and decided to imprison him into a bamboo cage then drifted him in the river.

In the afternoon when Cuoi was carried to the river’s bank, he regretfully said sorry to them and asked them to come back home to bring him a book hidden behind the basket of rice that taught him telling lie as the last favour. They both agreed and returned home to satisfy their curiosity without saying a word.

After that Cuoi saw a blind man passed by. He then asked the man to untight the cage if he wanted to have his eyes cured. At last Cuoi was free and hid himself in a bamboo grave and luckily found a jar of gold. He came back and gave it to his uncle and his aunt to atone for faults while the poor blind man was waiting for his eyes treated.

Later Cuoi got married with a girl in the village and went on pulling people’s leg. Once morning he came into the forest and saw a tiger mother picking leaves from a kind of tree to cure her son’s wound. Immediately the wound was recovered and the tiger baby could follow his mother to continue their trip. Cuoi grasped the opportunity to uproot the tree and rose it in the garden behind his house. He called the tree Banyan and took good care to it. He always reminded his wife that the tree was magic one so it was impossible to pour dirty water or dump the garbage at its root otherwise it would fly to the heaven. His poor wife sometimes envied with the tree so she dumped garbage at the tree root once day.

When Cuoi came home he found the tree was shaking and flying higher and higher in the sky. He tried to hold its root to pull it back but he couldn’t. The tree actually pulled him farther and farther from the earth until it reached the moon.

It is said that there is still image of Cuoi sitting at the root of Banyan tree and looking down to see the world and there is also a Vietnamese saying ” lie as Cuoi”.

Read More

The Hundred-Knot Bamboo

There was a rich devious landowner who used all kind of tricks to exploit his servants and laborers. He had a beautiful nubile daughter. Khoai lived as a servant in this household from the time he was a young boy.

He had to work very hard. He is now in his late teens. The landowner was afraid that Khoai will leave the household and thus he would lose a very hard working helper. So, one day he called Khoai and told him:

"If you stayed in the household and work hard day and night, I will give you my daughter in marriage."

Khoai believed the landowner and was very happy. He redoubled his efforts to win the heart of the landowner. Three years have passed. The daughter is now grown. In the region, there is this very wealthy village chief, who eyed the daughter for his son. So, the village chief came and ask for the hand of the daughter. The landowner agreed and set out to prepare for the wedding.

When Khoai realized that he has been taken advantage of, he was mad and went to the landowner to complain. He asked the landowner:

"You have promised your daughter to me. Why are you going back on your promise now?"

The landowner did not like to be addressed in such a manner. He was going to beat him, but taking another look at the young man, he dared not. He told him instead:

"My son, you are mistaken! My daughter is now of age and the preparation for the wedding that I am undertaking now is actually for you. However, if you want the wedding to take place, you must accomplish the following task. You need to find a bamboo with one hundred knots. Then you will need to cut it up into chopsticks for the wedding feast. That is my condition for giving you my daughter's hand in marriage."

Khoai again believed him and went up the forest in search of the bamboo with 100 knots. He searched for days on end and went from one end of the jungle to the other without success. In despair he sat down in the jungle and wept in despair.

Suddenly he saw an old cheery man with all white hair but with rosy complexion. The old man approached him and asked:

"Son, why are you so sad?'.

Khoai told him his story. The old man told him:

"Go and cut 100 stems of bamboo and bring them back here".

Khoai went out and brought back the bamboo that the old man asked. The old man then gave the command

"Stick together! Stick together" (Kha('c nha^.p)

The bamboo sticks that were lying here and there on the ground immediately came together all in a row to make a bamboo with 100 knots. Khoai was filled with joy. He wanted to thank the old man, but he has disappeared. He realized that he has met Buddha. He set out to bring the bamboo back. But there was no way for him to load this long bamboo on his shoulder. He kept on running into other trees. He sat down again in despair and wept. Immediately he saw the old man reappear. Buddha asked him:

"Why do you weep?"

He explained his situation. Buddha pointed at the bamboo and said

"Unstick! Unstick!" (Kha('c xua^'t).

and the bamboo came apart in 100 stems. And Buddha disappeared. Khoai tied up the 100 bamboo stems and proceeded to take them home.

When he arrived home, he found the two families preparing to feast in the courtyard. The village chief family has come for the wedding. Khoai was really mad and ran to the landowner to ask for an explanation. The landowner told him

"I asked you to get me a bamboo with 100 knots, not 100 stems of bamboo!"

Both family stopped their feasts and laughed derisively at Khoai, and joked about his naivety. Khoai told the landowner that he has the bamboo and the courtyard and the landowner should come out and examine it. As the landowner approached the pile of bamboo, Khoai said in a low voice "stick together! stick together!". Immediately the bamboo stems came together and the landowner was also stuck at the end of the bamboo. The landowner tried to pull himself away but failed. The future in-laws came to his rescue. Khoai waited until the village chief has touched the landowner before he said "stick together! stick together!". Immediately the village chief became stuck to the landowner. The same fate happened to the village chief's son. The more they tried to pull away, the harder and more painful they became stuck. Both families were now in panic. Nobody dared to pull the three men away any longer nor joked about Khoai. They lined up and asked him to pardon the 3 men stuck at the end of the bamboo.

Khoai had the landowner promise his daughter to him and the village chief has to agree not to seek vengeance. Then Khoai said "unstick! unstick!" and they all became free.

The village chief and his party quickly left the festivities. And Khoai moved into the bridegroom chair and the celebration continued!

Read More

Chu Dong Tu and Princess Tien Dung

The third King Hung Vuong had a beautiful daughter named Tien-Dung ("Tiên Dung" - Divine Beauty), who, although of fairy-like loveliness, was endowed with a whimsical nature. Despite her father's entreaties, she rejected every offer of marriage, preferring, as she said, to remain single in order to satisfy her passion for visiting the many beautiful sites of her father's kingdom, known as Van Lang. As the king loved his daughter tenderly, he tried to please her in every way possible, even placing at her disposal a number of vessels including the royal barge, so that she could navigate the rivers of the realm.

At that time, in the village of Chu Xa (Hung Yen province), lived Chu Cu-Van and his son Chu Dong-Tu (Marsh Boy). They were poor fishermen whose home had been ruined by fire. They had lost all their clothing except a single loincloth, which they took turns wearing. When Chu Cu-Van fell seriously ill and felt death approaching, he called his son to the side of his mat.

"After my death," he said, "keep this loincloth for thyself."

But Chu Dong-Tu was a pious son and could not let his old father be buried without shroud. He attended the funeral in borrowed clothes and then found himself without a garment of any kind. The poor young fisherman was obliged to do his fishing at night. During the day he would attempt to sell his catch to the people in the boats passing along the river, remaining immersed in the water up to his waist. One day, Princess Tien Dung, then in her twentieth year, accompanied by a brilliant suite, happened to approach the very place where Chu Dong-Tu was standing in the water. When the young fisherman heard the sound of gongs and bells and perceived the wonderful array of parasols and banners, he became frightened and took cover behind some bulrushes. Then he quickly dug a hole in the sand and covered himself so completely that only his nose was exposed.

Taking a liking to the picturesque surroundings, the princess expressed a desire to bathe there. A tent was set up on the shore. The princess entered, disrobed, and began to pour water over her head and shoulders. As the water trickled to the ground, it washed away some of the sand, exposing Chu Dong-Tu in all his nakedness.

"Who are you?" asked the princess. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Royal Highness," replied the frightened youth, not daring to raise his eyes, "I am only a poor fisherman. Having no garment with which to clothe myself, I was forced to hide in the sand at the approach of the royal barge. Will you not pardon my error?"

Princess Tien Dung dressed in haste and threw a remnant of cloth to the young man so that he could cover himself. Then she questioned him in great detail about his past life. Hardship had not marred Chu Dong-Tu's handsome features, and the princess was not displeased with his demeanor. After some deliberation, she reached a decision.

"I had not expected to marry," she said with a sigh, "but Heaven has ordained this meeting. I cannot oppose Heaven's Will." She immediately ordered all her officers and ladies to come forward. When they had assembled, she told them of the extraordinary adventure that had just befallen her. Then she announced that it was her intention to marry the young man.

"But Your Royal Highness," cried Chu Dong-Tu on hearing these words, "how can I, a penniless fisherman, be the husband of a royal princess?"

"It has been predestined," replied the young woman; "therefore, there can be no reservations about the matter."

"Long live Their Royal Highnesses." cried the officers and ladies in chorus.

Chu Dong-Tu was properly clothed and groomed and the royal wedding took place that same evening with great pomp. But when King Hung-Vuong learned of it, he became furious and shouted angrily at his courtiers.

"In marrying a vagabond," he said, "Tien Dung has dishonored her rank of royal princess. She is to be disinherited and forever banned from my court." The princess had no desire to face her father's wrath. In order to provide for her husband and herself, she decided to go into business. She sold her junks and her jewels, bought some land at a crossroads near the village of Chu Xa, and established a trading post. Visited by merchant vessels from the entire kingdom of Van Lang and from countries overseas as well, the village prospered and in time became a great emporium.

One day, a foreign merchant advised the princess to send an agent across the sea to purchase some rare merchandise that could then be sold at a tenfold profit. Chu Dong-Tu was charged with this mission and together with the foreign merchant left by sea. On reaching the island of Quynh Vien, they met a Taoist priest who immediately recognized the sign of immortality on Chu Dong-Tu's forehead. The former fisherman then entrusted his gold to the foreign merchant and remained on the island for one year in order to be initiated into the secrets of the Way (Dao).

On the day of Chu Dong-Tu's departure, the priest gave his disciple a pilgrim's staff and a conical hat made of palm leaves. He advised him never to be without them.

"This staff will give you support," he said, "but it is worth much more. The hat will protect you from the rain and also from harm. Both have supernatural power."

On returning to Chu Xa, Chu Dong-Tu converted his wife to Taoism. They repented their earthly sins, abandoned their possessions, and left in search of a deserted place, where they would be able to devote themselves entirely to a study of the True Doctrine.

All day they stumbled on through the wilds and at last fell to the earth exhausted. But before lying down to sleep, Chu Dong-Tu planted his staff in the ground and on it hung the conical hat.

The couple had been asleep only a few moments before being awakened by a crash of thunder. They sat up between flashes of lightning and saw a magic citadel suddenly rise from the earth. It was complete with jade-and-emerald palaces, public buildings, and houses for the inhabitants. Mandarins, both civil and military, courtiers, soldiers, and servants came forward to welcome them to the city, begging them to rule over the new kingdom. Chu Dong-Tu and his wife entered their palace and began a reign of peace and prosperity.

When King Hung-Vuong learned of the existence of the magic citadel, he thought that his daughter had rebelled against his authority and was desirous of founding a new dynasty. He assembled an army and ordered his generals to destroy the rival kingdom. The people of the citadel urged the princess to give them weapons so that they might defend her territory.

"No," she said, "I do not intend to defend this citadel by force of arms. Heaven created it and Heaven has sent my father's army against it. In any case, how can a daughter oppose her father's will? I must submit to the inevitable."

That evening King Hung-Vuong's army camped on the bank of the river opposite the magic citadel. His generals planned to attack the following morning. But at midnight a terrible storm arose and the entire citadel with all its inhabitants was seen to rise into the air and disappear. The next morning the royal army found only a marshy pond and a sandy beach at its former sight. The pond received the name of Dam Nhat Da, which means "Pond Formed in One Night", the beach was called "Spontaneous Beach", or Bai Tu-Nhien

Read More

The Story of Tam and Cam

Long, long ago there was a man who lost his wife and lived with his little girl named ““Tấm””. Then he married again a wicked woman.

The little girl found this out on the first day after the wedding. There was a big banquet in the house, but “Tấm” was shut up in a room all by herself instead of being allowed to welcome the guests and attend the feast.

Moreover, she had to go to bed without any supper.

Things grew worse when a new baby girl was born in the house. The step-mother adored “Cám”--for “Cám” was the name of the baby girl--and she told her husband so many lies about poor “Tấm” that he would not have anything more to do with the latter.

"Go and stay away in the kitchen and take care of yourself, you naughty child," said the wicked woman to “Tấm”.

And she gave the little girl a dirty wretched place in the kitchen, and it was there that “Tấm” was to live and work. At night, she was given a torn mat and a ragged sheet as bed and coverlet. She had to rub the floors, cut the wood, feed the animals, do all the cooking, the washing up and many other things. Her poor little soft hands had large blisters, but she bore the pain without complaint. Her step-mother also sent her to deep forests to gather wood with the secret hope that the wild beasts might carry her off. She asked “Tấm” to draw water from dangerously deep wells so that she might get drowned one day. The poor little “Tấm” worked and worked all day till her skin be”Cám”e swarthy and her hair entangled. But Sometimes she went to the well to draw water, looked at herself in it, and was frightened to realize how dark and ugly she was. She then got some water in the hollow of her hand, washed her face and combed her long smooth hair with her fingers, and the soft white skin appeared again, and she looked very pretty indeed.

When the step-mother realized how pretty “Tấm” could look, she hated her more than ever, and wished to do her more harm. One day, she asked “Tấm” and her own daughter “Cám” to go fishing in the village pond.

"Try to get as many as you can," she said. "If you come back with only a few of them, you will get flogged and will be sent to bed without supper." “Tấm” knew that these words were meant for her because the step-mother would never beat “Cám”, who was the apple of her eyes, while she always flogged “Tấm” as hard as she could.

“Tấm” tried to fish hard and by the end of the day, got a basket full of fish. In the meantime, “Cám” spent her time rolling herself in the tender grass, basking in the warm sunshine, picking up wild flowers, dancing and singing.

The sun set before “Cám” had even started her fishing. She looked at her empty basket and had a bright idea. "Sister, sister," she said to “Tấm”, "your hair is full of mud. Why don't you step into the fresh water and get a good wash to get rid of it? Otherwise mother is going to scold you."

“Tấm” listened to the advice, and had a good wash. But, in the meantime, “Cám” poured her sister's fish into her own basket and went home as quickly as she could. When “Tấm” realized that her fish were stolen away, her heart sank and she began to cry bitterly. Certainly, her step-mother would punish her severely tonight!

Suddenly, a fresh and balmy wind blew, the sky looked purer and the clouds whiter and in front of her stood the smiling blue-robed Goddess of Mercy, carrying a lovely green willow branch with her. "What is the matter, dear child?" asked the Goddess in a sweet voice.

“Tấm” gave her an account of her misfortune and added: "Most Noble Lady, what am I to do tonight when I go home? I am frightened to death, for my step-mother will not believe me, and will flog me very, very hard."

The Goddess of Mercy consoled her. "Your misfortune will be over soon. Have confidence in me and cheer up. Now, look at your basket to see whether there is anything left there."

“Tấm” looked and saw a lovely small fish with red fins and golden eyes, and uttered a little cry of surprise. The Goddess told her to take the fish home, put it in the well at the back of the house, and feed it three times a day with what she could save from her own food.

“Tấm” thanked the Goddess most gratefully and did exactly as she was told. Whenever she went to the well, the fish would appear on the surface to greet her. But should anyone else come, the fish would never show itself. “Tấm”'s strange behavior was noticed by her step-mother who spied on her, and went to the well to look for the fish which hid itself in the deep water. She decided to ask “Tấm” to go to a far away spring to fetch some water, and taking advantage of the absence, she put on the latter's ragged clothes, went to call the fish, killed it and cooked it.

When “Tấm” “Cám”e back, she went to the well, called and called, but there was no fish to be seen except the surface of the water stained with blood. She leaned her head against the well and wept in the most miserable way. The Goddess of Mercy appeared again, with a face as sweet as a loving mother, and comforted her: "Do not cry, my child. Your step-mother has killed the fish, but you must try to find its bones and bury them in the ground under your mat. Whatever you may wish to possess, pray to them, and your wish will be granted."

“Tấm” followed the advice and looked for the fish bones everywhere but could find none. "Cluck! cluck!" said a hen, "Give me some paddy and I will show you the bones.

“Tấm” gave her a handful of paddy and the hen said, "Cluck! cluck! Follow me and I will take you to the place." When they “Cám”e to the poultry yard, the hen scratched a heap of young leaves, uncovered the fish bones which “Tấm” gladly gathered and buried accordingly. It was not long before she got gold and jewelry and dresses of such wonderful materials that they would have rejoiced the heart of any young girl.

When the Autumn Festival “Cám”e, “Tấm” was told to stay home and sort out the two big baskets of black and green beans that her wicked step-mother had mixed up.

"Try to get the work done," she was told, "before you can go to attend the Festival." Then the step-mother and “Cám” put on their most beautiful dresses and went out by themselves.

After they had gone a long way “Tấm” lifted her tearful face and prayed: "O, benevolent Goddess of Mercy, please help me." At once, the soft-eyed Goddess appeared and with her magic green willow branch, turned little flies into sparrows which sorted the beans out for the young girl. In a short time, the work was done. “Tấm” dried up her tears, arrayed herself in a glittering blue and silver dress. She now looked as beautiful as a princess, and went to the Festival.

“Cám” was very surprised to see her, and whispered to her mother: "Is that rich lady not strangely like my sister “Tấm”?" When “Tấm” realized that her step-mother and “Cám” were staring curiously at her, she ran away, but in such a hurry that she dropped one of her fine slippers which the soldiers picked up and took to the King.

The King examined it carefully and declared he had never seen such a work of art before. He made the ladies of the palace try it on, but the slipper was too small even for those who had the smallest feet. Then he ordered all the noblewomen of the kingdom to try it, but the slipper would fit none of them. In the end, word was sent that the woman who could wear the slipper would become Queen, that is, the King's First Wife.

Finally, “Tấm” had a try and the slipper fitted her perfectly. She then wore both slippers, and appeared in her glittering blue and silver dress, looking extremely beautiful. She was then taken to Court with a big escort, be”Cám”e Queen and had an unbelievably brilliant and happy life. The step-mother and “Cám” could not bear to see her happy and would have killed her most willingly, but they were too afraid of the King to do so.

One day, at her father's anniversary, “Tấm” went home to celebrate it with her family. At the time, it was the custom that, however great and important one might be, one was always expected by one's parents to behave exactly like a young and obedient child. The cunning step-mother had this in her mind and asked “Tấm” to climb an areca tree to get some nuts for the guests. As “Tấm” was now Queen, she could of course refuse, but she was a very pious and dutiful daughter, and was only glad to help. But while she was up on the tree, she felt that it was swaying to and fro in the strangest and most alarming manner.

"What are you doing?" She asked her step-mother.

"I am only trying to scare away the ants which might bite you, my dear child," was the reply. But in fact, the wicked step-mother was holding a sickle and cutting the tree which fell down in a crash, killing the poor Queen at once.

"Now we are rid of her," said the woman with a hateful and ugly laugh, "and she will never come back again. We shall report to the King that she has died in an accident and my beloved daughter “Cám” will become Queen in her stead!"

Things happened exactly the way she had planned, and “Cám” be”Cám”e now the King's first wife. But “Tấm”'s pure and innocent soul could not find any rest. It was turned into the shape of a nightingale which dwelt in the King's garden and sang sweet and melodious songs.

One day, one of the maids-of-honor in the Palace exposed the dragon-embroidered gown of the King to the sun, and the nightingale sang in her own gentle way: "0, sweet maid-of-honor, be careful with my Imperial Husband's gown and do not tear it by putting it on a thorny hedge." She then sang on so sadly that tears “Cám”e into the King's eyes. The nightingale sang more sweetly still and moved the hearts of all who heard her.

At last, the King said: "Most delightful nightingale, if you were the soul of my beloved Queen, be pleased to settle in my wide sleeves."

Then the gentle bird went straight into the King's sleeves and rubbed her smooth head against the King's hand. The bird was now put in a golden cage near the King's bedroom. The King was so fond of her that he would stay all day long near the cage, listening to her melancholy and beautiful songs. As she sang her melodies to him, his eyes be”Cám”e wet with tears, and she sang more charmingly than ever.

“Cám” be”Cám”e jealous of the bird, and sought her mother's advice about it. One day, while the King was holding a council with his ministers, “Cám” killed the nightingale, cooked it and threw the feathers in the Imperial Garden.

"What is the meaning of this?" said the King when he “Cám”e back to the Palace and saw the empty cage. There was great confusion and everybody looked for the nightingale but could not find it.

"Perhaps she was bored and has flown away to the woods," said “Cám”.

The King was very sad but there was nothing he could do about it, and resigned himself to his fate. But once more, “Tấm”'s restless soul was transformed into big, magnificent tree, which only bore a single fruit, but what a fruit! It was round, big and golden and had a very sweet smell.

An old woman passing by the tree and seeing the beautiful fruit, said: "Golden fruit, golden fruit, drop into the bag of this old woman. This one will keep you and enjoy your smell, but will never eat you." The fruit at once dropped into the old woman's bag. She brought it home, put it on the table to enjoy its sweet-scented smell. But the next day, to her great surprise, she found her house clean and tidy, and a delicious hot meal waiting for her when she “Cám”e back from her errands as though some magic hand had done all this during her absence.

She then pretended to go out the following morning, but stealthily “Cám”e back, hid herself behind the door and observed the house. She beheld a fair and slender lady coming out of the golden fruit and starting to tidy the house. She rushed in, tore the fruit peel up so that the fair lady could no longer hide herself in it. The young lady could not help but stay there and consider the old woman her own mother.

One day the King went on a hunting party and lost his way. The evening drew on, the clouds gathered and it was pitch dark when he saw the old woman's house and went in it for shelter. According to custom, the latter offered him some tea and betel. The King examined the delicate way the betel was prepared and asked: "Who is the person who made this betel, which looks exactly like the one prepared by my late beloved Queen?"

The old woman said in a trembling voice: "Son of Heaven, it is only my unworthy daughter."

The King then ordered the daughter to be brought to him and when she “Cám”e and bowed to him, he realized, like in a dream, that it was “Tấm”, his deeply regretted Queen Both of them wept after such a separation and so much unhappiness. The Queen was then taken back to the Imperial City, where she took her former rank, while “Cám” was completely neglected by the King.

“Cám” then thought: "If I were as beautiful as my sister, I would win the King's heart."

She asked the Queen: "Dearest Sister, how could I become as white as you?"

"It is very easy," answered the Queen. "You have only to jump into a big basin of boiling water to get beautifully white." “Cám” believed her and did as suggested. Naturally she died without being able to utter a word! When the step-mother heard about this she wept until she be”Cám”e blind. Soon, she died of a broken heart. The Queen survived both of them, and lived happily ever after, for she certainly deserved it.

Read More

The Saint Giong

It was said that, under 6th King Hung dynasty, there was an old couple in Giong village. They were kind and worked very hard but having a child was still their wish. Once day the wife came to the field and happened to see a large footprint, she then tried

Accidentally she was pregnant and born a son twelve months later. The old couple was very happy but the baby himself could not smile or speak. He just lied wherever he was placed even though he was three years old.

The country at that time was under the danger of being occupied by invader from the North. The invader was so strong that the king had to ask envoys to search for those who could fight against the enemy. When hearing the envoy's voice, the child began asking his mother to call the envoy. The man came in and was surprise to hear that the child wanted to have a horse, an amour and a rod all made from iron to fight for the country's peace. Immediately he returned to the court and reported what had happened to the king and then all the requirements of the child in Giong Village were fulfiled through days and nights as the king's order.

It was more surprising that from the day the child met the envoy, he grew rapidly. The old couple did not have enough food and clothe for their son. However, all the villagers were always available to help them for no one of them wanted to live under the enemy's rule.

The invader was about to reach to the root of Trau mountain, all and sundry panicked. But at that time the envoy came with iron horse, amour and also rod. The child stretch his shoulders, rose himself and turned to a valiant man more than a "2 trượng" high. The valiant man stately stepped to the horse and flapped it so that it was neighing loudly.

He then worn amour, took the rod and jumped on the horse's back. The horse began erupting fire and was push to Trau mountain to wait in front of the enemy.

There was drastic and keen fight between the powerful, dense enemy and the valiant man himself. The man on the iron horse fought so bravely that the enemy died like flies. Suddenly the ironed rod was broken but he continued struggling by rooting up all the bamboo groves and used it as his former weapon. The invader's willing was absolutely broken. They all shattered and trampled on others to run away. The man ran after them to Soc Son mountain. At last he reached the top of the mountain then put off his amour and finally flew into the heaven together with the horse.

To show the deep gratitude to the valiant man the king conferred a title Phu Dong Thien Vuong on him and set up a temple for memory.

Read More

Son Tinh and Thuy Tinh

In Vietnamese myths, the  story Son Tinh and Thuy Tinh to explain their country own situation in a tropical and monsoon land.

Son Tinh was the spirit of the Mountain and Thuy Tinh the spirit of the Waters. The king, Hung Vuong VI, had an extremely beautiful daughter, and he did not wish her to marry just any prince. He consulted with his court and hit upon the idea of sending out a proclamation far and wide to the effect that he was seeking a suitable party for his daughter. Princes came from far and wide but none was considered to be a good match for the king's beloved daughter. Finally, one day there came at the same time two very handsome young noblemen asking for the princess' hand. Upon inquiry and examination, they turned out both to be equally distinguished, talented, and powerful. The king was in a quandary as to how to choose. Finally, he decided to send them both away, saying that whoever turned up the next day first with the proper wedding gifts would be given the princess in marriage.

He was, therefore, given the hand of the princess. Barely had the proceedings been completed when Thuy Tinh, the Water spirit, turned up with his gifts.

Being of a fiery disposition, Thuy Tinh could not accept his defeat. He sought to challenge Son Tinh to a contest to see who was the stronger and therefore more deserving of the princess. But Son Tinh simply ignored him, strong in his conviction that right was on his side. Furious, Thuy Tinh called on the waters of the rivers and brooks to overflow their banks and flood the land, In no time the whole land became a storm and raging sea that rose day by day and hour by hour, ruining all the crops and ravaging the land.

But Son Tinh was imperturbable in his palace in the mountains; all he needed to do was to get his mountains to rise a little bit higher when the waters threatened to flood them. After several days and weeks of trying to overcome his rival by raising the waters, Thuy Tinh finally had to concede defeat and order the waters to withdraw. This happened at the end of the monsoon but Thuy Tinh was never fully reconciled to the loss of the beautiful princess. Every year he tries to reenact the battle and that was how monsoons came to Vietnam.

Read More