When the morning just rose, the coffee drops were quiet
When the street was bustling beside the quiet trees
And Tuy Hoa like poetry.
On the Nghinh Phong side, the waves keep turning white.
But Tuy Hoa wind is still young after a million years
What memory is not stained with the color of vicissitudes?
Sitting with Tuy Hoa listening to the endless sediment.
We will tell each other stories about the roads
Yesterday afternoon the crossroads and five-way intersections had rustling leaves.
The flow of people passing by strangely
Still feel familiar by Tuy Hoa's eyes.
Source: https://baophuyen.vn/sang-tac/202504/ngoi-lai-voi-tuy-hoa-38b41dd/
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