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To My Grandchildren, whom I love
The way home is so long
The sun sinks in the horizon
It's blowing, snowing
Dead leaves falling down
The wind howls
The crows make sound
I walk on
Dwell my thoughts
On my warm roof
And my happy life
In infancy, I need mother's love
In maturity, I cross the threshold of love
Not rich, not poor
With true love in golden heart
When my age turns over
Retirement comes with me o woe |
