Classic Poem

Walking along a road,
walking along a snow-swept mountain road,
I see bright crimson berries growing in the snow.
I hear the old tales long forgotten.
I hear songs
that flew far away in childhood times.

Walking along a road,
walking along a riverside road crunchy with reeds,
I see white birds perching to sing on the bare branches.
I see long-lost old friends.
I rediscover dreams
forgotten together with those friends.

Walking along a road,
walking along a mountain road,
walking along mountain, river, meadow roads,
I see crimson berries filling my hands full.
I hear the beating wings
of the white bird fluttering in my breast.
I hear the sound of the song
I sing, united with all those things,
walking along the road.