I lost something in the hills | I grew up in declivities.
Others grow up in cities.
Where first love and soul takes rise.
There were times in my life.
When I felt mad and deprived.
And only the slopes gave me hope.
When I pass through the leg high grass, I shall die.
Under the jasmine, I shall die.
In the elder tree.
I need not try to prepare for a new coming day.
Where is it that fills the deepness I feel?