Portal
A splendid voice, lit fog of Tonlé Sap,
On the piroque one, a silhouette floats, the voice is memorable.
I feel that some things of important should occur there very quickly,
My heart cracks, persecutes me in the vacuum.
The voice of distress amplifies, of this girl invites one to save,
With broad of the flower, it does not cease making a sign with its mucles bungee cords.
Under the dyes of the sky reduced and veiled
I took a vat, rowed of all my forces to leave it the danger.
It is its day of chance, I thought, and left it its terror,
The breeze carressait the face of Tonlé Sap, it is saved, my heart vibrates of happiness.
I breathe the odor of his wet body, which circulates in the air and swells me the nostrils,
I rowed and my body is very tired by the vague navy.
Chanthou, the stray flower of Kompong Chhnang,
This city is re-elected of “Pot” and fishing in Samra, strange marine.
Her aunt laughs at her made toothless, red mouth of bétel and her malicious glance,
When Chanthou gave him bananas with a radiant smile.
When the low and heavy sky weighs like a lid,
And that horizon embracing all the circle.
On my route of voyage, my heart deadened with Kompong Chhnang eternal,
To leave the beautiful one, my tears ignite and challenge it.
Undoubtedly, eyes of Chanthou soaked of tears, what a fatal destiny!
Like all the Khmers, am impassioned by the account of love, the infernal drama.
More liked, “TOUM TEAV” equivalent of Romeo and Juliette to the Cambodian one,
The tragedy of a poor poet and the girl of a widow, full with hatred
BY SKMONOHA Of Cambodia
On the piroque one, a silhouette floats, the voice is memorable.
I feel that some things of important should occur there very quickly,
My heart cracks, persecutes me in the vacuum.
The voice of distress amplifies, of this girl invites one to save,
With broad of the flower, it does not cease making a sign with its mucles bungee cords.
Under the dyes of the sky reduced and veiled
I took a vat, rowed of all my forces to leave it the danger.
It is its day of chance, I thought, and left it its terror,
The breeze carressait the face of Tonlé Sap, it is saved, my heart vibrates of happiness.
I breathe the odor of his wet body, which circulates in the air and swells me the nostrils,
I rowed and my body is very tired by the vague navy.
Chanthou, the stray flower of Kompong Chhnang,
This city is re-elected of “Pot” and fishing in Samra, strange marine.
Her aunt laughs at her made toothless, red mouth of bétel and her malicious glance,
When Chanthou gave him bananas with a radiant smile.
When the low and heavy sky weighs like a lid,
And that horizon embracing all the circle.
On my route of voyage, my heart deadened with Kompong Chhnang eternal,
To leave the beautiful one, my tears ignite and challenge it.
Undoubtedly, eyes of Chanthou soaked of tears, what a fatal destiny!
Like all the Khmers, am impassioned by the account of love, the infernal drama.
More liked, “TOUM TEAV” equivalent of Romeo and Juliette to the Cambodian one,
The tragedy of a poor poet and the girl of a widow, full with hatred
BY SKMONOHA Of Cambodia
bart
Never mind! Nice to know u.