This thatched hut shelters a man of grasslands;
In front of his door the horses and carts are few.
The thick forest behind gathers birds to nestle;
The vale streams are vast to shelter teeming fish.
The mountain fruits—he brings my kid along to pick;
The marshy fields together with his wife he ploughs.
And what do they have inside the house?
Nothing more than a bed filled with books and scripts.
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Perhaps he has everything....
Diana....