Leisure talk: On the grassy hill, summer

It was the first time I stepped foot on a hill. All I saw was clouds all around me. And tall trees, their green canopy reaching up to the deep blue sky and sea.

Looking up from below, the hill doesn't look very big. But as soon as you set foot on it, you're overwhelmed by the vastness and openness of the grass and trees. And the wind, not knowing where it's coming from, feels like it's all wind.

I had been playing around all day. Sometimes I felt tired and fell asleep on the soft grass. The grass here was lush and green, even though it was close to the top of the sky, under the scorching summer sun. The clouds seemed to spread their shadows wider. Compared to when looking up from the ground… We carelessly played, roamed, and discovered everything. But forgot that under our feet, the grass was bending and supporting us. Grass was everywhere. Overflowing from the top of the hill. Obsessed with each other going up and down. After going a long distance, I realized that this hill was special. The short slopes were interspersed, the patches of forest were racing to spread out, without any common rules. When the day was over and we returned, everyone had their own image of the hill. Because of the hidden and flickering. Because of the endless green that made the scenery endless and vague.

As we lay our heads on the grass and slept, it seemed as if each of us had a dream. Or perhaps we were having the same dream, in the brilliant evening light. I dreamed of the little house at the foot of the hill. The house with the pale green wooden fence. The hibiscus flowers fluttering their red eyes. A pure world waiting there. As if a voice was calling, ringing out…

I see you. With a lingering song, like a small stream. Eyes like a valley at night, reflecting the sparkling phosphorescence. You let down your hair, scooping up cold water. Reflecting the moon. The ultimate loneliness. You left, at the age of seventeen... The illness took you away like a dream. The wild flowers I picked for you. Soaked in the cold dew of the moon. The wine jar holds the nectar, buried deep in the ground. The land you lie in, lingering in the scent of the years. Blending with the wind on the shore. Where the red hibiscus of the silent afternoon. Bright red petals, lighting up the summer dream. Flowers flow down a stretch of forest and hills. As if sending your soul to the sea. There is a horizon with shimmering light connecting to the infinite. The sun dome this season, blends with my longing for you. The grass is so green. Under the brilliant sunset light.

On the grassy hill, summer...

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-tren-doi-co-mua-he-185250628175358283.htm