miss the moon

Sitting under the moon, staying awake with the moon, yet saying you miss the moon, at first it sounds a bit strange. Actually, missing the moon here means missing the past, missing the seasons of childhood.

The moon is always the same, everywhere, still waning, still full, still with the same cool blue light. The only difference is the change of modern life, of modern people.

Long ago, when my mother was young, the lullabies sounded so full of emotion: “Please don’t be greedy for that and forget the lantern/ Be greedy for pears and forget the pomegranates, be greedy for the moon and forget the lamp”. The moon at that time was likened to a noble, rich girl living in a red-tiled house. As for the lamp, the kind of lamp made of cloth or cotton, lit by peanut oil or kerosene, was like the rustic fate of a woman living miserably in the countryside. That’s why there were such sad and heartbreaking lyrics comparing and blaming!

But if that lullaby were brought to this modern era, it would no longer be appropriate at all. The moon today is no longer the moon of the past, the moon is no longer the magical blue light that reigns over the earth, in people's hearts. The moon is still there but it is very lost, very lonely. Electricity, electric lights, this very bright light has overshadowed the moon, usurping the position of the Moon Lady.

In today's modern life, people are gradually moving away from nature, they are intoxicated with the convenience of machines, with pre-set programs. A smartphone is enough to attract, to capture both space and time in it. Then add the pressure of making money, the pressure of studying... just like that, spinning, tiring, few people still pay attention to the moon, childhood is also gradually far away from the moon, forgetting the moon!

Remembering the moon, I think of Bich Khe, Che Lan Vien, Han Mac Tu… Luckily, our country at that time was not yet developed, people lived in harmony with nature, wild, enjoying the wonderful things that heaven and earth gave. Otherwise, there would be no verses of poetry intoxicated by the color of the moon, alluring the scent of the moon, floating on the moonbank, groping under the moon: “The moon lies stretched out on the willow branch/ Waiting for the east wind to come to flirt (HMT)” or like, “Whose boat is moored at the moonbank/ Will it bring the moon back in time tonight”. And there are many, many moons of the past!

Nowadays, the moon also exists in poetry, but it is more or less a borrowed moon color, of imagination, sometimes like a spice! It's like people build a moon-watching tower and light it up!

Remembering the moon, I remember my childhood, remember the village road filled with moonlight, remember the rustic games like hide and seek,... fascinated until the moon rose high.

I miss the moon, I miss the seasons of buffaloes treading rice, I miss the people carrying water under the moon, I miss the moonlit nights following my father to the fields to fish...

The moon and childhood were so peaceful and sweet!

And now, remembering the moon, on full moon nights, on the sixteenth, sometimes the nineteenth, twentieth, I open the back door, where there is still a small piece of land with a few eucalyptus trees, where there is no electric light, I look for the moon in the gaps between the leaves, in the sound of geckos calling at night and there, a vast sky of memories!

Source: https://baobinhthuan.com.vn/nho-trang-117632.html