Rivers have often been viewed as a safe passage into new territory. Whatever we are running from, whoever we are running to, there is a safe place-a safe space-if we could just, cross over! Rivers have been known to serve as viable sources into one’s journey. From phase to the next, rivers have been Earth’s natural mapping points. If we are unsure if we should turn, or move into another direction, just follow the river and it won’t lead us wrong. Or will it?

Sometimes, what’s on the opposite site of the river is not always a good thing. In fact, crossing the river may lead to danger. It’s not only what lays on the other side, which is dangerous, it’s also what is inside of the river, during the crossing phase.

Rivers are not always safe. For starters, there are the levels, which are dangerous for those, who cannot swim. There are also the wild animals within rivers, that show no mercy to those, entering into its domain. In their minds, you are simply another intruder, who has invaded their habitat. Therefore, you must be taken down, immediately. No hesitations. No mercy.

So, here we have the dual nature of rivers. Calming on one factor; scary on the next.

Into Vietnamese waters/rivers/traces of rivers, we go. Pretty sure that there are local stories of the rivers, which have been told. There are also those rivers, which protected foreign servicemen. And so, veterans return back there, as a source of healing.

Finally, certain stories of Vietnamese rivers paint pictures of Maidenal dreams. They are the young women of the land, who amplify the beauty of the land and culture. Using fashion, they also dress themselves in the way of the land. Let it be known that cultural fashions take on a chameleon-like essence. When fashion has been crafted and designed from foundations of the Earth, women (and their attire) become enrichened and move in an Earthly way. They reflect different presentations, in how the Earth would look, if they were women from that area. Through these spectacles, cultural dress takes on a more holistic approach. Women’s connection to the Earth and rivers, projects a more holistic approach.

As one late Vietnamese-American, musical maiden depicts this combination of maiden and the Earth, observe the traces of rivers. Some are full, while others have died down. Regardless of their contrasting states, one Vietnamese maiden has made harmony with, the river. It is a testament to her femininity. Furthermore, it has nourished her, within a holistic element. The very presence of water is proof of her femininity, womanhood, and ability to grow culture from the land.

She sings, “Hai Oi, Dung Qua Song.” Translation? Hai Oi, Don’t Cross the River. One particular sensing of Hai Oi from the writer of this article, feels the terms as forms of decor. They don’t have a direct meaning. Yet, their presence articulates an emotion, which empowers-Dung Qua Song. Is this true?

A digital production of the song demonstrates a euphoric display of one Vietnamese maiden among her people. It appears that she has matriculated herself throughout the regular population, before she decides to take the artistry she has discovered, in preparation for the performance stage. Isn’t that something? True artistry demands that we navigate through the land, first. Afterwards, we bring the auras of land and rivers onto the stage. That’s a blessing, of course. It’s a collection of many blessings, and a performance of their manifestations.

Throughout the video, depictions are made of one late singer performing a character, who performs the day-to-day tasks of the people. The boat rides onto waters are mesmerizing. A flowing texture of the cinematography makes the space even more elegant. Grace surrounds it. It moves within it, and stands beside it. Before you perform on stage, you must move with rivers-or at least stand near them. Only then will you feel (and experience) its harmonies of melodies!

Phi Nhung