Autumn comes to Huong Tich, the sun is bustling,
Yen stream has clear water and can be rowed straight.
Stalactites and stalagmites skillfully carved by the sky,
Old pine trees layer upon layer of steep mountains.
Deep in the temple, the bell rings deeply,
The waves hit the boat and the waves toss it around.
Rowing up the mountain to see,
Thousands of mountains and rivers, autumn leaves rustle...
Heritage Magazine
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