A strong breeze just passes,
In the garden of moonlight flashes,
The cloudy trees wearing white dresses,
Of fog and snow equally graces.
A no U-turn in a road of tradition,
Is the destiny of a rules made in heaven,
Actually the road made round back to origin.
All travelling with the road like a traditional caravan.
Ane one time breeze passes making a loop,
A loop made by the caravan like tradition hope,
A hope reconcile with the cognizance of God at the top,
Mast light milky light watering trees passes between like rope.
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