Workshop staff recite poems.

Be protected by labor

My body is under the beat of the sun.

Ups and downs like gratitude

There was a metallic sound.

The sound of friction between metal and soil.

This seductive voice has been hovering over this land.

Let us have a deeper understanding.

The taste of the land

labour

Let's sweat.

Endless and silent

Like feathers beating on metal.

We live for labor.

Remove fish scales

As rain seeps into the soil

In the mature season of golden dance

We smell good.

Branches hanging high