Oh, how I miss the fields after the harvest!
Sparrows swooped down in flocks to pick up fallen grains of rice.
The scent of freshly harvested straw wafts up, tinged with golden sunlight.
It smells strongly of the salty sweat.
Somewhere nearby, I hear someone laughing heartily?
Thousands of kites soar high in the wind.
A thousand kites carry sweet dreams.
Like a shimmering candy, the color of memories.
Oh, I miss the pungent smoke from the rice paddies so much, it stings my eyes!
The faint aroma of grilled snakehead fish cooked over straw wafted through the air.
The strong, fragrant rice wine is too potent to drink.
Its waters shimmer with the exquisite aroma of home.
The sound of footsteps splashing in the deserted fields.
Frogs croak loudly on rainy nights.
The northeast wind blows, dyeing the wildflowers yellow.
Fish overflowing the banks stirred the crescent moon in the late night sky.
The land stirs to welcome the bustling winds of Tet.
The green fields have donned a new coat of color.
The rice fields are as smooth and slender as a young girl's waist.
The gentle fragrance of sweet rice is intoxicating.
The land loves its people, so it strives to grow and thrive.
He breathes his soul into the earth day and night.
The earth's fragrance fills the air with overflowing love.
The sweat silently seeps into the earth, transforming it into poetry.
MYSTICAL SEEDS
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