"Nostalgia of The City Light"

You won't believe in 17 years ago in the rice field

In the country where my Papa and I lived

At that time, we sat above the felled log

We played in the reeds covered with the fog

We breathed and breathed without any hush

Until my Mom cried out to rush

            At seven I lingered going to school

            The hatred, not to be a fool

            Soon, I wanted to go home