The Crystal Heart
A Vietnamese Legend is a imagination folktale from Vietnamese.In this story Long ago, in a palace by the Red River, there lived a great mandarin and his daughter, Mi Nuong.
Like other young ladies of her position, Mi Nuong was kept indoors, away from the eyes of admiring men. She spent most of her time in her room at the top of a tower. There she would sit on a bench by a moon-shaped window, reading or embroidering, chatting with her maid, and gazing out often at the garden and the river. One day as she sat there, a song floated to her from the distance, in a voice deep and sweet. She looked out and saw a fishing boat coming up the river.
“Do you hear it?” she asked her maid. “How beautifully he sings!” She listened again as the voice drew nearer.“He must be young and very handsome,” said Mi Nuong. She felt a sudden thrill. “Perhaps he knows I am here and sings it just for me!”
The maid’s eyes lit up. “My lady, perhaps he’s a mandarin’s son in disguise—the man you are destined to marry!” Mi Nuong felt a flush on her face and a stirring in her heart. She tried to make out the man’s features, but he was too far off to see clearly. The boat and the song glided slowly up the river and away. As the daughter of a great mandarin, Mi Nuong leads a sheltered life. But one day, sitting in her tower, a song floats to her from a distant fishing boat on the river.
"My love is like a blossom in the breeze.
My love is like a moonbeam on the waves."
The voice is so beautiful, she knows the singer must be young and handsome -- perhaps even a mandarin's son in disguise. Could it be that the song is for her? She longs to meet him, but how? And what will she find if she does?
In this poignant legend, a young lady discovers that appearances can deceive, but the heart speaks true. Her eyes filled with tears. A single tear dropped into the cup.
It was enough. The crystal melted away, releasing the spirit of Truong Chi. Then Mi Nuong heard the song one last time, floating off over the river.
Mi Nuong is like a blossom in the breeze.
Mi Nuong is like a moonbeam on the waves.
It was not many months more when Mi Nuong was given in marriage to the son of a great mandarin. He was young and handsome, and she felt that her dreams had come true.
Yet now, as she gazed on a different garden and a different view of the river, she often still heard the song of the fisherman echo softly in her heart.
Kindness, false imagining