I wake up with rooster’s whistling
Before the sun covers the night
Fresh daliah’s scent sparks my mind,
Begonia’s colors wishes me
With the morning dew bright.
I take a sip of the coffee and
I look at my field.
Take that sickle my boy
It’s time for crop to yield.
I harrow clod,I ride horse,
I smoke weed,I hurt none
I roam the dark forest with a loaded gun.
I need no pity,need no compassion
I’m that cool breeze blowing without restriction.
Sometimes I play that old song
“country roads take me home” – my choice,
I live in merriment with the birds’ sonorous voice.
With Cicadas’ louder chorus
on that oak tree.
As a bird, in the valley, I am free.
I have no regrets,I have no greed
I live in contentment and doing good deed.
Stars are my inspiration
moon my pathfinder,
Wind sweeps away the thorns
no one’s the hinder.