It's like an elf.
Stepping on the clouds in a long-lost dream
Eyes full of gold
And a simple heart.
He insisted on holding it.
Torches handed down from distant time and space
Between the vast mountains
Looking for the last piece of green
however
The world is joking with him.
Time has quietly hidden the green behind.
He dug out stones on the side of the road again and again.
Dig the clear spring of the mountain stream
Time and time again on windy nights
Protect the flashing torch with your body.
It's getting light.
Get up earlier than the most industrious farmers.
It is getting dark at night.
Sleep later than the moon.
He is tired.
Lying under a fruity tree.
Began to complain about the trick of fate
until one day
The huge fruit woke him up.
Hear that people who work hard
Harvest the laughter of hope in the wheat field
He smiled
Laughed happily
It turns out that gold is so beautiful.