THER RISE Hence There was a day when I cried and was born When I alone "overcame" the pain of hugging my newborn baby.
laughing happily
One day, I gave up my warm hand Giao Con to the Second Mother Then I hesitated and stood outside Waiting for the first time the "broken heart" of the class break So Con felt a little surprised
Mother is like a gardener Caressing the roots of every year's trees Giving children leaves to grow branches Than a young man with little salary for the first time he gave mother to hug her, Uot choked up in tears
One day - I brought my girlfriend to let her accept me as a daughter-in-law. I divided into two kind hearts in harmony with two souls
The child is growing up. The child grew up. I was called to Ba Bat to eat, but every meal I kept getting greeder and greeder every time I shaved off my cleaning. I lost my lips and laughed
There is a most intense day It is the last time I try to see clearly The mother's face is engraved in the old memories At the end of the breath Before melting... into the vast sky and earth!
Orphans see the ancient river - the first time the boat launched to bring the Catchery to the end The miracle of mother now returning Suddenly cooling the fire in my heart I remember erasing the scarce space Time of Death Choking Up The calendar of Life - The Day I lost my Mother! 3.2025
KHI METsuO SCHEDULE PHAN HOANG clouds arranged freely wandering The free birds flying freely No more the sound of grinding teeth, how to sleep in a chair cabinet in a free room chatting The night of mother sleeping peacefully in the beautiful sky with beautiful teeth and flashes
Tuy Hoa fields are full of rice. 1:30 am on March 11, 2025
From the source of life to life to the source of life In the gaps of silence I listen to your steps moving Outside, every now and then is the dawn The sound sometimes scares me More than when we are apart
In addition, every dawn, I follow the sidewalk of this city without a forest. In every breath is the voice of the green forest animals remembering each other. The city without a sea. In the steps are the floating buoys. The leaves at the end of the year are chatting about the ever-growing story.
In the gaps of the silence of winter, tell the story of the cold Throughout the cold, it is a river filled with fire When you get old. 3.2025
A PURPOSE THIEN (Memories of an afternoon of rain in Hanoi) Coming here to help people with cold rain, the face of the river floats all over my liver, I love you, the thin wings of the rosy apricot in spring, a branch is in a state of desolation, then from that day on, nature is angry and begging to pour down to the rain, making the clothes wet at noon and rain, making the things that are just crystallizing the old road I go...
the poem of a singer sent to the apricot rain!
3.2025
yourself is a PREPARATOR
interests me with an endless heart and memories Pulling out of night sleep with the arms of nostalgia My chest is tight
Love each other like a miracle Love between brothers is fruitful Saying it is sweet, thinking it is peaceful
Love like a blink of an eye with a me methai or unnamed England - a thorn that straightforwardly becomes the roughness of the day with all the bitter, sweet and sour flavors
Love you soft with a lot of feelings - in - in - in your chest - in - in...
