I don't want to be the sea
The spring is enough
Much less the rose
Only the thorn
I don't want to be the path
But the shortcut
Much less the rain
Only the dew
I don't want to be the day
Only the dawn
Much less the field
The grain is enough
I don't want to be life
But the moment
Much less the concert
Only the song
Gold sinks in the ocean
Wood floats above
Oysters are born in the mud
And beget fine pearls