The land of red wine people

Drink cold hands and miss green tamarinds

Saigon has a sweet sound

I am a native dedicated distiller Land footsteps lost the domain

Remembering the original love is very good

Remember the small sparrow passing the branches

Chirping the blue sky and the kite The land of people in white fog demands love

Looking for sun flaps, I miss many Homeland

Saigon has a lovely reputation

Having fragrant love to share in danger Saigon birds also perched because

Four directions converge love to record good land

Saigon’s footsteps passed quickly

The mark still imprints pure sincerity Saigon does not have a cold, frozen wind

Mother is here waiting for me to come home

Incubate in cold frost four-sided

Gold love the waves miss you about Mom Walking a lot of wandering

Back to embrace the earth, Mother will have a peaceful afternoon

Saigon five fingers knitting

Unresolved love of love has overflowed with love. November 2, 2020 LOVE IS THE POETRY Have you ever known to love

That sweet love poetry

The question is very accidental

But the afternoon is purple Ever asked what love is
Is it an illusion?

The wind blows every time

Cold rain melted love Hallucinations and hallucinations

Illusion or illusion

Where to find a risky roof

Build a dream life Once we were infatuated

Once I forgot

Only one change

Love goes into the past Love is a poem

Love is the musical note

I write in accident

My soul is lost. 27/04/21

For the melon to have a rich, beautiful look, the cheeks cut ginger, galangal roots and chili to ripen into thin slices, then mix into the subjects, add a little salt and sugar to taste, empty the rice, then pour water to wash the rice. slang to flood, then cover tightly. 3 – 4 days later, when the cantaloupe turns yellow, it is edible … Saying that, but to make a cup of melon is not easy, must be meticulous and have a secret, not playing around. Melon can be eaten with fish stock, or cooked in sour soup with perch, snakehead fish is all delicious. The ringing, earthy taste, the pungent, strong, sour smell of cantaloupe has seeped into my flesh and blood until now and has become nostalgia. My father cooks quite well, but every time he cooks porridge, he nods, and he just can’t wait to eat. To have a pot of delicious porridge for the whole family, the mother must choose large, bright yellow eels and young mussels to cook well enough. When the pot of porridge boils, the rice has just hatched, the cheeks let all of the mussels thinly into and cook together, while the eel is quickly cooked, then put in the last. Until all cooked, she put braised cilantro, minced chili lemongrass and coconut milk, then mentioned it down, served the tray … I don’t know, is it because of the porridge pot made with water. Did I give up on my cheeks blush, to go back to live with my baby’s cheeks, or because of their forgiveness? As for me, the smell of porridge water kept strong until now. On the phone, my mother said to my husband and I: “My father is now in the field because it rains, so I have a cold, I have to cook water for him to drink.” Listening to my mother, I felt so impatient, I loved my father more, but I loved her more. The cup of moth sweet is sweet, the fragrance is soothing to relieve poison, but the love of cheeks for her father is sweeter and more fragrant than the cup of cheeks cooked. I love my cheeks so much, I love all my youth because of my children and the gentle streak of Western women, the square of the family home. Knowing that I like the watermelon dish cooked in sour snakehead snakehead fish soup, my wife went to the market early on the weekend. My wife said there was no good snakehead fish today, so the whole family ate a pickle and pickled soup cooked with anabas. Put a little broth into the rice bowl, I hear the smell of melon, pungent, not strong, sour, fragrant like melon in the old days. However, living in urban areas, a little love from the countryside, even if not tasting, warms the hearts of those who are far away from home. This afternoon, the city suddenly poured rain. I watched the rain fall, suddenly heard my heart flutter, remembering my mother’s saying: “Love is a long life, not just a season for her to make medicine.” Injury!