viết 1 đoạn văn kể về quê em (TIẾNG ANH)

2 bình luận về “viết 1 đoạn văn kể về quê em (TIẾNG ANH)”

1. Each region and each country has its own characteristics and beauty. My hometown also has its own beauty. My hometown is a busy and bustling city. The name that most Vietnamese people know is Ho Chi Minh City. This place is famous for its high-rise buildings, cute little cafes and bustling streets. The most special is the Landmark 81 building. It has a huge height of up to 461m, this is also the busiest area of Ho Chi Minh City. This is a city that does not sleep because at night it still puts on its bustling appearance. I love the city where I live for all it has given me

   Dịch

   Mỗi vùng miền mỗi đất nước đều có những điểm đặc trưng và vẻ đẹp riêng của nó . Quê hương em cũng vậy cũng có những vẻ đẹp riêng của nó . Quê hương em là một thành phố tấp nập và sầm quốc . Cái tên mà đa phần người Việt Nam nào cũng biết tới đó là thành phố Hồ Chí Minh . Nơi đây nổi tiếng về các toà nhà cao tầng , các quán cà phê nhỏ xinh và những con phố nhộn nhịp . Đặc biệt nhất là toà nhà Landmark 81 . Nó có chiều cao khổng lồ lên tới 461m , đây cũng là khu vực sầm quốc nhất của thành phố Hồ chí Minh . Đây là một thành phố không ngủ vì vào ban đêm nó vẫn khoác lên vẻ ngoài tấp nập của mình . Em yêu thành phố nơi em sống vì tất cả những gì nó ban tặng cho em

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2. Xuan Phuong village, my hometown, is a large village located along the Red River, running along the dyke that has been standing for generations to prevent flood water. To protect crops. It is May now, and everyone is rushing to prepare for the harvest. In the early morning, the village road was full of footsteps. I and my mother joined the flow of people rushing to the fields to visit rice. The field in my village is very wide, and straight and stork wings fly, looking like a giant carpet from afar. The morning wind is gentle, and the whole rice field is undulating and rippling. From time to time, a frightened bird flew up high. Those are birds because they were so absorbed in finding prey that they had to spend the night in the rice fields. The scent of sweet rice. Perhaps someone’s sticky rice field ripens early. The scent reminds me of the rice cereal my grandmother used to make during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Stepping over the small bridge across the ditch, fields full of clumps of raspberries were in sight. This plot is yellow, waiting for the hand of the reaper. The other parcel is pale yellow with a bit of greenish green. About half a month before the rice is ripe… The rising sun shines brightly, sparkling on the dew drops on the rice leaves. For several months, the roots diligently sucked up the nutrients in the soil to feed the plants; so that now, the rice flowers are bent, heavy with golden seeds, bringing joy and hope to the farmers who work hard for a day or two. She cradled the rice branch in her hand, deeply appreciating the merits of her father and mother. Here and there in the undulating fields of the women’s white hats, the sisters are digging to drain the water so that the field is dry, easy to reap tomorrow. The tinkling chatter expressed everyone’s joy at a sure harvest. It was almost noon, and the mother and daughter and the group returned to the village. Under the ancient banyan tree, under the shade of bamboo, buffaloes, and cows are munching. Resounding overhead, the sound of kite flutes evokes a calm and peaceful atmosphere. I believe that after this rice crop, many new tiled houses will spring up, replacing the old thatched roofs. The scenery of my hometown will surely become more and more beautiful.  

   #vudaoduyhung

   #khongchepmang 

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