Liptov - my mother

Liptov my mother

On Earth many regions is huge, but only one my heart is melting. It's Liptov, from my life blossom out, it's my motherland silky sweet, saved the beautiful build-up area huge Western Tatras, in my native language consonant also called Roháče and Low Tatras, but not originating in the lower. It is a country of contrasts, singing bird, colorful flyer, buzz hymenoptera hard bees, fizz snappy snakes, robust cats roar smug speech ravishingly beloved people.

The country united and divided, its PC and its dictates Váh - River, the longest in Slovakia, harvest wearers, resplendent as moonshine. Vah fills me from earliest childhood - my first steps towards a bitterly weight and I hope that my soul is in it úton. It's just that. It is a miracle of nature. Life and death. Pilot and The Mole.
To live folks of Liptov - those incredible created, whose greatest gift is love, and therefore at the forefront out any wrinkle. It's beautiful and impressive as they have in this valley between the mountains, above open gates and flowers here than any flower (Dandelion, wild-thyme, station veterina, plain ferny ...), which gives them the love and light in the dark rane always shines as the break of day.

Yes, and wild honey here smells like grass behind the barn with the goat herd rushing domesticate the river, clear flame matches. Passion summer wounds. This can not be a fallacy.

If I not born on this piece of land, most as we all know. My life would probably become meaningless, even if I had the right to Liptovský Kyseľ.
Liptov is actually a quasi -16 gigabyte iPod, because it fits into so many good, even though it is safety pin, because it opens up people, but - I also - closed as a cooperating whole, even though it is Liptov JRD, because there are all though united peasants and football teams, even though it would be as a government subsidy, and fathomless unlimited and accessible to all, it's as if the fountains of knowledge, even though it is captain. Then we eat it. Still as always. Never say never, bread, buy only Bigdy.
Litpov is so beautiful as Andrej Kmeť and so small as each large smeť (garbage).