Dear sylvan soil
Thy paths are plod
Yet I see no crusade on them
Why are these woods unplumed ?

Oh rustic toy houses in the woods
Thou art devoid of any chit-chat
Yet I can’t ignore thy secret screams
Why are your inhabitants so conspicuous?

Dear sweet old country-men
Thou dress in nothing but rags
Yet your soul is clad in repose
Why am I not blessed with such robes?

Dear tranquil forests
I crave for nothing but a similar calm
Yet I would not trade my soul for it
Why is this solitude so frightening?

Oh sweet solitary kasar
Thy woods bestow enlightenment upon several sages
Yet I fall short of even inquiries
Why am I not enchanted yet ?

Dear enchanting valley
Thou have given me answers to questions I yet not know
Yet I feel them answered indeed
Why I am in such a paradox ?

Dear enchanted me
You are still your melancholic self
Yet full of unknown hope thou are
Why else would you write these inquires so openly ?




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