Who was born with the mountain of the mountain, rivers and streams (Huong Son - Ha Tinh), when he was away from his hometown and no anchored in the mind of the four seasons of the Mountains of the Mountains of the Mountains: 00/4: 01Nam domain Nam nam - river street. Improving the green Internet is resilient through the burning hot days. The forest was burned, the trunk was barely, dry ..
. so strangely, that tree still lined the dry land and revived. Today, the hill wouted, the wind fluttered, Laos wind blowing lighter because he was tired After a few days of continuous fire fans, the eyes of Mat Man's eyes remembered in the flavor smoke in the nation of the nation. Mushrooms carved the names of the mother and the tombs named their teammates
.. the street river flows from Dai thousands, to the side of the ru, winding winding. River water Day downstream plays in the sun and wind of Laos. Mother sitting and watching looks up at the pine pine. Live live fields. The stems rose strongly to take the blue rays of the blue sky wide. Between the green pine forest is the martyr's cemetery, where there is a tomb of the mother and the tombs named Your team ..
Does one afternoon sitting on the bridge, listen to the micro-fenced sound or in the wind? Thinking singing yourself? Self when mother bearing the tales from Son Thuy, Son Mai is tight, crossing the flushing bullet in the bridge, down to the market, the market is changed for the cake with a multi cake, cast? Singer singing ever? From the time of the children of the small mother, every time I heard the sound of the American aircraft again and panicked to the dharma? Put singing the song from the day, the old days ... the boy's day, the mother's daughter was just eighteen, the blue hair floated, her shoulders were burly, connected to his father on the road. Mother stayed with the land of his homeland, staying with a green tea hill, looking and waiting for. Mother loving his homeland, his country, loving the dimensions and sunshine, her lips laughing vibrating in the laurate wind Lower, watch poetry players, play. Cool water and cassava rivers, mulchargeable mothers. Talking on the old days, the European mother was a hundred eggs, raising hundreds of children to divide to manager Giang Son. The poor mother of the Holy Giong also from hot coffee, nong rice and raised her child to become a Phu Dong. Legendary legends legend, day old days until today. Great Vietnamese mothers, heroic Vietnamese mothers! The children don't go back, their mother's heart strikes ... Illustration Illustration of Internet has another soil other lands. In addition, therefore also has its own characteristics. Pine in the stream of water stream of thousands of streets, slightly color fat from stones, collecting a bit of moisture in the wind and the sun in the middle of the sun burns, then transforming the body so that the leaves are small, pointed . The tree as well as the person here, never dare wastic, throughout the lives present at the earth throughout the whole life, only to know, collect ... Mother too. Mother as well as pine. Let the children carry the beautiful and soul full of desire, full of will go to the road. Long mother daughter hair like street river, her hands of solid mother's son like forest pine trunk. The mother's life collected, spanning to be talented, his mother dedicated to his homeland, was also the country of the small alley where the tea was tilted in the sun three times witnessed her mother, seeing the boy , daughter on the road. Then and the lane of Co Lieu that hugged the ball of the mother to receive the news. You don't go back, my mother's heart ... the nemarge nation of the nation - the rest of the heroes and martyrs. Internet image in eyes faded because the tears of dried dried, mother and mother remembered the image of Mother's children ... Death for the rebellion! The battle of the middle of the red fire, eight-day and night moments of his mother like a fire ... Their shape on the Tan Son Nhat Road, who sacrificed and the gun barrel still straightened the enemy! I have the name of your name to become the name of the country, chemping on each soil, trees, turning into the pine goods ranging on this afternoon ... this afternoon, the roar still rings. Thong trees were reborn from the violent fire last summer. The species on the miraculous rival, from the humus of dried stems, preschools are more intense vitality, rising themselves in the wind and burns in the Central sun. Tree life is also strange, the trunks fall down, the branches leave branches, are the source of living for other preschools piercing, sancting, flowing. Mother's mother can like a leaf, like a tree . I fall so that my country is lived, so that the sun is green, smoke in the afternoon on each roof, the juniors and a lot of diving under the river of Hien Hoa and Vong streets. And both the goods rang, softly ... Trinh Thi Nga . Dịch vụ:
Thiết kế website,
quảng cáo google,
đăng ký website bộ công thương uy tín
