I Love This Land
	
	If I were a bird,
	
	I would sing with my hoarse voice
	
	Of this land buffeted by storms,
	
	Of this river turbulent with our grief,
	
	Of these angry winds ceaselessly blowing,
	
	And of the dawn, infinitely gentle over the woods…
	
	——Then I would die
	
	And even my feathers would rot in the soil.
	
	
	Why are my eyes always brimming with tears?
	
	Because I love this land so deeply…