December comes, I grow homesick
I wish I soar in the sky
Over the winds and beyond the clouds
In the blue I want to fly.
I want to see my homestead land
My fields I want to see
Yawning with the mellow paddy
And lustre of the glee.
I want to pluck some drops of dew
That shine on the cheeks of rose
I want to fondle the chirping birds
By being to them so close.
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