“Why must we reside in such places?” So I thought,
letting the grain pass once more through the sieve.
“Towns in which everything’s sold but nothing is bought.
Towns in which one can be buried but cannot live.
But what hasn’t life in the forest taught?
Sure, I’ve forgotten all about virtue and sin.
At first the pure air allows you to think clearer.
But sometimes I think it’s a bit too thin,”
I reflected as I opened my hundredth tin.
“It’s beautiful out here but there are no mirrors,
and nothing ever arrives on the beat.
There’s simply no point in maintaining this retreat.”
So I concluded as I ironed out the kinks.
“Where people eat and drink it usually stinks.
But that’s where you have to go if you want to eat.”
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