How beautiful my country is... Golden earth and blue sky, golden earth and blue sky, every season brilliantly colored: thats what my country is like... The cuckoos cry out; the cuckoos cry out and down comes the rain. Thats what my country is like... When the breezes comb through the fields of wheat, a rainbow of scarves go flying. While the farm girls come to fill their pots at the well, someone plays the flute in a sweet, soft melody: listen! At every step, you encounter... at every step, you encounter a love story. Thats what my country is like... where children watch festivals from atop their fathers shoulders, festivals full of dance, spectacle, and delicious food. Here you might get a sweet dessert; there, a salty snack. The innocent children are like dolls, and every day, their grandmothers... every day, their grandmothers read them fairy tales. Thats what my country is like. In my country, visitors are considered gods; youre made at home no matter where you come from. Ive seen your country; Ive gotten to know it... I dont know why, but it seems so familiar to me; The same evening, the same sort of sunrise... The evenings and the dawns in my country are just like those in yours. . This is what my countrys like, the same as yours... This is what my country is like.
Posted on: Sun, 21 Sep 2014 13:28:46 +0000
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