When Vietnamese readers call a translated novel 'faithful,' are they actually praising the translator's invisibility or just missing the original's rhythm? I've seen praised translations that flatten Nguyen Du's six-eight meter into plain prose, yet reviewers still call them excellent for capturing the 'soul'—while other translators get criticized for adding footnotes that explain historical context. Does our evaluation of translated literature wrongly prioritize emotional effect over technical fidelity, or is the feeling itself the only honest measure when the source language's music simply cannot survive?