Pick a wild fruit, taste it— sweet or sour?
Stop time from rushing hour after hour
Time’ s worn shape, half stuck in muddy mire
People call this thing we live“ life”
Back to the little yard, cook porridge for my wandering days
A butterfly sits on the fence right by my place
All my wasted hard times, I tell them as old tales
I’ m going to find who I used to be
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
Down below the hill runs a little rill
Home‑ bound birds sing, flying through coloured cloud
They say living in this world is well worth the crowd
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
The shepherd picks up sticks to make his fire still
Valley flowers sip dew just like drinking wine
Softly drunk, they wait for the moon to shine
Back to the little yard, cook porridge for my wandering days
A butterfly sits on the fence right by my place
All my wasted hard times, I tell them as old tales
I’ m going to find who I used to be
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
Down below the hill runs a little rill
Home‑ bound birds sing, flying through coloured cloud
They say living in this world is well worth the crowd
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
The shepherd picks up sticks to make his fire still
Valley flowers sip dew just like drinking wine
Softly drunk, they wait for the moon to shine
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
Down below the hill runs a little rill
Home‑ bound birds sing, flying through coloured cloud
They say living in this world is well worth the crowd
See the windy sunset, wild grass all over the hill
The shepherd picks up sticks to make his fire still
Valley flowers sip dew just like drinking wine
Softly drunk, they wait for the moon to shine
