In my village, where memories reside,
A happy hour I miss, with heartfelt pride.
Where neighbors gathered, like a family dear,
Sharing laughter and stories, year after year.

Under the shade of a sturdy old tree,
We'd gather together, merry and free.
With cups held high and spirits ablaze,
We celebrated life in countless ways.

The aroma of home-cooked meals would rise,
Filling the air with...