Gardens of childhood hold intense

I was once again optimistic about the world of childhood. Immersed in a garden full of trees and leaves. These beds are made smooth greens your soul. My childhood was not immersed in silk velvet. Which is the month full of sad days in loneliness. Green vegetables are so self-fertilize your hand. As the day collecting firewood to collect leaves something to boil.



      And much as they cope with the cold through people. Because of the northeast monsoon blowing from the field. Both endured the gnawing hunger, trembling. You have to look in the garden get something to eat. When the few bright pink grapefruit extract. Now is the ripe purple fruit parallel black. When luck is sung nine seasons. Pick ripe fruit you eat to full stomach. But where season-long nine sung in? Young fig season, I picked on delicious with salt. When sung by black dots old salt to food is extremely harsh. But also help smooth your heart is hungry. Then scoop ripe tree fruit season. I can only wait for the fall fruit shells. Because the tree is too high, they just look that dream. Many hungry children get left breast stockings pitcher to eat. Or pick provisional few small dots wormwood tops salt. Then ripe guava, green guava Kids are eating in a hurry. Ripe jackfruit season, the whole house is always really fun. Ripe grapefruit or mango season nine is very great. The aroma of ripe mango, ripe bananas still warm in my heart!
      We can say they have the days of violent childhood. The May Day strenuous and arduous. When her brother was the pig chicken meals for a family. In my heart is a lifelong dream. You must be rich, very rich fade when I grow up. For other people to look at me with respect and serve! For your life to be like the kings.
       Then press storm buries dreams shattered poetry. The garden had become devastated. The new owners have moved in here. My heart shattered into pieces as small. Oh my childhood garden imbued how sweat tears. ...
      Now you're back from a corner rebuild his childhood garden violently. This brought the fruit from the old days. I want to relive a childhood. Where they are always immersed amongst it. A swinging hammock in the middle of the garden. The fruit trees in the garden will never let you go hungry. Where you feel peaceful, serene upon a fairy!
                                                                 Author: Pham Thi Hoi