It is not right; it is not right.
The rose wilts; the green grass has lost it's color:
It now drifts from place to place,
Easily caught by flaunting winds.
A grain of sand travels the world over;
The waves carry it.
The waves carry a grain of sand,
It does not object.
But where is the place of a white fleck,
When it is found on a brown shore?
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