How I wish to scuttle alone,
over a gentle river,
from bank to bank,
in a small boat,
rowed with a bamboo pole.
The call of the wild is an irresistible call,
to venture into the silken waters,
to feel the wind and look at the blue sky
with nimbus clouds drawing strange patterns,
when seagulls’ fly, shrieking over my head,
and sense the misty...
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