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We woke up every day to walk a path
The path that is filled with cold grass
The coldness induced by ever present dew
On our way to the stream

We were accompanied by beautiful birds
They followed singing aloud
They echoed everything
Their melodies lift the spirit and shorten the distance

We were intrigued by the breeze
The breeze that blew with authority
Forcing the trees to release their fruits
The fruits that we thankfully picked

The stream supply our calabash with water
The lower basing bath our body
The upper basing for cooking and drinking
Yet it keeps the balance and never gives diseases

We wake up every morning, joyfully grabbing our calabash
Singing, dancing and running with the birds
Feeding our belly with fresh fruits
On the way to the stream

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