Writing in my village

I plant in the fields far away so dinner is often late.
Sweet cold, drizzle, fog covers the village road
Hometown rice grains are forever sticky and fragrant
There is sunshine, rain, human love, and the scent of the fields

Farming is less difficult
Harvesters, plows, transplanters... have arrived in the village.
No more poverty, no one mentions food and clothing
New countryside, new intensive fields

Love parents, grandparents... all their life hard work
Rice planted, rice plowed, shoulder pole hollowed shoulders
Counting on fingers to calculate the food for the second month of the lunar new year
Hungry some days, full some days during the lean season

Life gives us full of joy and happiness
The alley by the city road is crowded and bustling.
The beauty of the countryside, my cultural village
Peaceful life changes every day…