Let the young plow their fields:
Be planted and filled with seeds
For land may cost worthless
And die like a rotten flesh.
Empty the crops from the weeds
For failure may come to lead.
Take them away from the beasts
For danger may put them at risk.
Let them grow like the mountain high
For sunshine never says goodbye.
Afterward, come the time of harvest
To gather sweet fruits of great success.
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