The storm side

I used to think that my life was somewhere on the roads of the distant mountains, the blue sea, the places I had never been to. My life was wandering through the seas of clouds, the misty hills, the sunshine and the rain somewhere on the horizon.

I used to think my life was just passing times.
Mother put him in a basket of green tea, carrying him across the rolling hills
ran away from home several times, sat on the roadside crying alone
long time no go home...

Far from the peaceful valley, far from the thatched roof
he followed his dream beyond the white mist
Somewhere in the quiet afternoon, I smell the scent of smoke
miss home so much...

He followed his small faith, and had many ups and downs.
also ragged clothes and food, heart full of scratches
everywhere I look I see myself alone in the middle of the sky
The valley is still waiting...

I returned not the me of the years of dreams
longing for a good night's sleep in the tea stall across the valley
the sound of dry firewood in the old winter
bewildered by the changing season wind...

His dream is now behind the hill
each side of the storm
the slanting afternoon sunlight
a wisp of smoke rose from the kitchen
far away...

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/phia-con-dong-3157084.html