Wanderers bring with the verses from the East.
It is said that at the edges of the land, there is boundless wilderness, crisscrossed paths, and golden ears of rice.
It is said that at the end of mountains, stars hang in the sky, flags conceal the sun, and the armor of soldiers is covered with frost. Others jest that wherever there is light ,
traveling merchants from distant homes weave maps with their footprints. Hidden, Cloud-covered lands.
And here I stand, reading the poetry of Huazu beneath the sky and amidst the stars.