A thousand hills, but no birds in flight, Ten thousand paths, with no person’s tracks. A lonely boat, a straw-hatted old man, Fishing alone in the cold river snow.
A thousand hills, but no birds in flight, Ten thousand paths, with
A thousand hills, but no birds in flight, Ten thousand paths, with no person’s tracks. A lonely boat, a straw-hatted old man, Fishing alone in the cold river snow.
