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 did not look very large. But as soon as we set foot on it, we were overwhelmed by the vastness and openness of the trees and grass. And the wind, not knowing where it was blowing from, felt like it was all around us.

I had been playing around all day. Sometimes I felt tired, and I fell asleep on the soft waves of 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 cast a wider shadow. Compared to when looking up from the ground… We were carefree, playing, exploring everything. But we forgot that under our feet, the grass was bending and supporting us. Grass was everywhere. Spreading 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 hazy.

As we lay our heads on the grass and fell asleep, it seemed as if each of us had a dream. Or perhaps we were having the same dream, under 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 with red eyes. A pure world waiting there. As if a voice was calling, echoing…

I see you. With a lingering song, like a small stream. Eyes like a valley at night, reflecting the sparkling phosphorescent shadows. You let down your hair, scooping up cold water. Reflecting the moon. The ultimate loneliness. You left, at seventeen years old... The illness swept you away like a dream. The wild flowers I picked for you. Soaked in the cold dew of the moon. The wine jar with nectar, buried deep in the ground. The land you lie in, lingering with the fragrance of the years. Blending with the wind of the beach. Where the red hibiscus of the silent afternoon. Bright red petals, lighting up the summer sleep. 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 still green. Under the brilliant sunset light.

On the grassy hill, summer...

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