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| Photo Gio suong roi |
Autumn dream comes, the wind shakes the lake's surface,
Dew drops fall - quietly like a broken bell in the void,
Mist and smoke tilt, leaning the silent Citadel,
Ancient tiles bend their backs under the footprints of the moon,
The pine trees tremble slightly like someone keeping a thousand-year oath that has not been revealed.
Is there anyone sitting on the autumn porch,
Hearing the swallows' wings parting the sky,
Is there anyone looking at the mirror of the lake,
Seeing their own face broken by the whirlpool of time?
Autumn is not just autumn,
Autumn is the threshold of an eternal dream,
Where the Citadel falls into the mist,
Where the wind drops an unfinished oath into people's hearts.

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