November weather in the highlands turns cold
White mist flies, creeping through the roads
Wild sunflowers are bright yellow in the early morning sun
Call the season full of love.

Small mountain town, gentle coffee aroma
Blue smoke from the afternoon lingers around the old thatched roof
The sound of the school drum resounds in memory
Like calling back to my childhood
I miss her gentle figure with silver hair
Walking silently among the chalk dust of time
Each word is cherished in the voice
Sow in my heart the dream of humanity.
Remember that day, lift up the first page of life
Her hand guided the first stroke of the letter.
Voice warm like a summer river
Bathing my soul through the years.
Now I'm grown up, also standing on the podium
See the clear eyes of school age
Many aspirations, though time flies
Still intact as the first morning sun.
Each lesson, with so many new things
Is a belief in the future
In the middle of the mountain town, in the middle of the blue sky and white clouds
The teacher's figure is still quietly working hard
November–give thanks
To teachers, the silent ferrymen
Despite hardship, still peaceful and sustainable
Like wild sunflowers blooming in the vast wind.
Oh mountain town, the season of gratitude is back!
Coffee aroma mixed with morning smoke and golden sunshine
I bow my head and always remember
Teachers' grace is as vast as the sea and as high as the sky.
Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/tho-dang-phuoc-tan-thang-muoi-mot-loi-tri-an-pho-nui-post571179.html






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