Nowhere near as beautiful as your hometown. The place where I lived and grew up when I was young and was sleeping in the arms of the sesame.
My house is next to the dusty ivory soaring up to the clouds. Around it there are brooches. Her home is connected from a small road to the village school behind the old meadow is changing the new shirt. Me spreading his arms to cover for you and the children in the same school. When I was studying, looking away, I saw coconuts scattering the sky. Underneath are low rise high rise houses. I miss the school lunch, suddenly dark sky began to rain again. That's right, a torrent of rain pouring on the head. We ran jogging, wet clothes, pale skin. The teacher gave us one lesson. There are also rice fields and a river. It was about six meters long and it drifted over the coconut trees high above the heavy rice fields ... In the same way, we went out together bathing, joking for a long time under the water again to the shore to fight each other. When we finished, we went to the field. There are boys sitting on the back of the buffalo playing flute or kite flying, while the buffalo is still just go grazing grass. There are no school holidays, we put the game before the house, choose the cool place to set up a small wedding hut with the bride and groom. The bride is dressed in pink, with gold pins of paper attached to her head. The groom wears green Pi-za-ma. The party is filled with colorful candy we have long reserved. Thanks to the long river, we often go out in the middle of the river with a boat when every afternoon the water rises. On the water are clusters of hyacinth drifted with purple flowers swinging ... as far away as dazzled by the sun was near diving. The sides of the river are rows of coconut water girly brown ball feet fall down alluvium and shining the dark green leaves fluttering on the river surface. The coconut water formed into the beam as big balls, very wrong should end up tapping water.
The homeland has simple roofed houses, the fields on both sides of the cottonwood quagmire, compared to the city it loses much, but not so in the countryside there is no interesting. Wherever I go, a piece of my soul is still there for my country. Oh! I do not want to be far away from the coconut water, the green meadow full of birds chirp and even the rain has mischievously threatened us and how many times we have to wet, wet. It is the rain of my own country ... I will remember it for life.
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