Waterside Village
West of the bridge
they dry the nets
on the road to the fishing village.
Noble in the frost, bare of leaves,
the trees along the cold bank.
Mountains reflected in the lake,
mist among the reeds:
I want to bring my whole family with me
and come here to live!
they dry the nets
on the road to the fishing village.
Noble in the frost, bare of leaves,
the trees along the cold bank.
Mountains reflected in the lake,
mist among the reeds:
I want to bring my whole family with me
and come here to live!
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