Minh không có thông tin tác giả, Bạn thông cảm Six long years of trials and toil, On rugged paths through every soil. In rain and sun, he walked the way, With only peace and vows to stay. A humble robe, patched and worn, In fields of green and midst of thorn. The bowl he holds, a simple shell, Reflects the tales his spirit tells. Oh, Monk Minh Tuệ, a life so pure, Boundless love, a heart so sure. Riding winds across the land, Giving grace with every hand. From mountains high to rivers deep, In every village, his promise keeps. In solitude and peace he roams, To spread compassion, to bring them home. Through cities bright and nights so cold, Among the young, beside the old. No worldly wealth nor lavish stays, Just earth below and endless days. The chanting voice in early morn, The steps that press where hope is born. By nightfall's glow or morning's dew, He walks, with faith, a heart so true. Oh, Monk Minh Tuệ, a life so pure, Boundless love, a heart so sure. Riding winds across the land, Giving grace with every hand. From mountains high to rivers deep, In every village, his promise keeps. In solitude and peace he roams, To spread compassion, to bring them home. Years may pass, yet paths remain, A simple monk through joy and pain. The road is long, but love endures, Monk Minh Tuệ, a heart so pure.
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Minh không có thông tin tác giả, Bạn thông cảm
Six long years of trials and toil,
On rugged paths through every soil.
In rain and sun, he walked the way,
With only peace and vows to stay.
A humble robe, patched and worn,
In fields of green and midst of thorn.
The bowl he holds, a simple shell,
Reflects the tales his spirit tells.
Oh, Monk Minh Tuệ, a life so pure,
Boundless love, a heart so sure.
Riding winds across the land,
Giving grace with every hand.
From mountains high to rivers deep,
In every village, his promise keeps.
In solitude and peace he roams,
To spread compassion, to bring them home.
Through cities bright and nights so cold,
Among the young, beside the old.
No worldly wealth nor lavish stays,
Just earth below and endless days.
The chanting voice in early morn,
The steps that press where hope is born.
By nightfall's glow or morning's dew,
He walks, with faith, a heart so true.
Oh, Monk Minh Tuệ, a life so pure,
Boundless love, a heart so sure.
Riding winds across the land,
Giving grace with every hand.
From mountains high to rivers deep,
In every village, his promise keeps.
In solitude and peace he roams,
To spread compassion, to bring them home.
Years may pass, yet paths remain,
A simple monk through joy and pain.
The road is long, but love endures,
Monk Minh Tuệ, a heart so pure.
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