Return to the river

You can come home, but don't cry, don't ask anything, Mom won't remember.

Sometimes I still call the wrong person.
with joys and sorrows
like free children

mother's generation
life
from mangrove branches
Split a soft bamboo strip and tie several knots.
clouds drifting

The night suddenly felt long in my distant memories.
listen to lullaby
tossing and turning in the hammock
He flapped his wings and flew towards the river.

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/tra-ve-song-3156719.html