Wave after wave.
Come on endlessly.
Every wave is at its feet.
Break into pieces, scatter ...
Its face and body.
Like a knife.
But it still stands there.
Looking at the sea with a smile ...
2. I love this land.
If I were a bird, I would also sing with a hoarse throat:
This land hit by the storm,
This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,
This endless wind,
And the gentle dawn from the forest ...
-Then I died, and even my feathers rotted in the ground.
Why do I often cry?
Because I love this land deeply. ...