The old flag

Somewhere in rural Vietnam, 2019

Il paese era silenzioso. Gli uomini e le donne forse erano nei campi per la raccolta del riso. Camminavo senza una meta precisa lungo vicoli e piccole vie traverse nelle quali poteva la massimo passare un motocicletta. La bandiera sembrava che fosse stata lì per anni. Il rosso e giallo erano stati sbiaditi dal passare del tempo.

The village was silent. The men and women were perhaps in the fields for harvesting rice. I walked without a precise destination along narrow streets in which only a motorcycle could pass. The flag looked like it had been there for years. Red and yellow had been washed away over time.

One photo a day

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