My hometown has a lot of beautiful scenes, but the most beautiful thing to do with me is the familiar way that imprints my footprints every time I go to school.
Out of the alley, you meet the village road. The road through the village is tiled flat, how many years have you used my footsteps to school. Next to the road at the beginning of a village a rice is quite old, horns standing on the road. Every spring, the red flower bloomed in the sky.
Every day I come home from school, old rice plants pepper for you.
In the morning, when the sun slowly jumped out of the bamboo ridge, the village road brightened and bustled. Looks all the students in my neighborhood all pour into the street. We go in groups, the laughing voice makes the road more bustling.
On the side of the road, the rows of trees tied together closely, shading the whole road. The roof tiles bright red, glittering behind the trees. Go all the way to the village road to the village. This road was strewn with stones, running through the rice paddies. Every morning on this road, I enjoy the sweet smell of rice along with the cool wind from the field up.
At the far end of the road, I saw the school roofed with bright red roof tiles, clustered behind the green foliage of the squirrels. The drum sound was heard. I hurriedly hurried to study, my heart felt happy.
For a long time, the road has become close to me. I love the road and treat it a close friend. When I grew up, wherever I go, I still remember the familiar path that was attached to me during my whole life.
My hometown has a lot of beautiful scenes, but the most beautiful thing to do with me is the familiar way that imprints my footprints every time I go to school.
Out of the alley, you meet the village road. The road through the village is tiled flat, how many years have you used my footsteps to school. Next to the road at the beginning of a village a rice is quite old, horns standing on the road. Every spring, the red flower bloomed in the sky.
Every day I come home from school, old rice plants pepper for you.
In the morning, when the sun slowly jumped out of the bamboo ridge, the village road brightened and bustled. Looks all the students in my neighborhood all pour into the street. We go in groups, the laughing voice makes the road more bustling.
On the side of the road, the rows of trees tied together closely, shading the whole road. The roof tiles bright red, glittering behind the trees. Go all the way to the village road to the village. This road was strewn with stones, running through the rice paddies. Every morning on this road, I enjoy the sweet smell of rice along with the cool wind from the field up.
At the far end of the road, I saw the school roofed with bright red roof tiles, clustered behind the green foliage of the squirrels. The drum sound was heard. I hurriedly hurried to study, my heart felt happy.
For a long time, the road has become close to me. I love the road and treat it a close friend. When I grew up, wherever I go, I still remember the familiar path that was attached to me during my whole life.
My hometown has a lot of beautiful scenes, but the most beautiful thing to do with me is the familiar way that imprints my footprints every time I go to school.
Out of the alley, you meet the village road. The road through the village is tiled flat, how many years have you used my footsteps to school. Next to the road at the beginning of a village a rice is quite old, horns standing on the road. Every spring, the red flower bloomed in the sky.
Every day I come home from school, old rice plants pepper for you.
In the morning, when the sun slowly jumped out of the bamboo ridge, the village road brightened and bustled. Looks all the students in my neighborhood all pour into the street. We go in groups, the laughing voice makes the road more bustling.
On the side of the road, the rows of trees tied together closely, shading the whole road. The roof tiles bright red, glittering behind the trees. Go all the way to the village road to the village. This road was strewn with stones, running through the rice paddies. Every morning on this road, I enjoy the sweet smell of rice along with the cool wind from the field up.
At the far end of the road, I saw the school roofed with bright red roof tiles, clustered behind the green foliage of the squirrels. The drum sound was heard. I hurriedly hurried to study, my heart felt happy.
For a long time, the road has become close to me. I love the road and treat it a close friend. When I grew up, wherever I go, I still remember the familiar path that was attached to me during my whole life.
my name is tram anh I GO TO SCHOOL AT 7 O CLOCK.
người ta đã có lòng tốt viết hộ cả một bài rồi mà không biết rut gọn lại mà còn đòi hỏi