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High Mountains and Long Roads

Shouting is bursting-out silence,

And silence is a soundless call.

Whether passion or quietness,

I only hope

It is not boring.

If a distant place shouts to me,

I will walk towards it.

If a high mountain calls me,

I will walk towards it.

My feet might be grazed;

Let the setting sun paint the way.

My hands might be scratched;

Let the azaleas replace the brambles.

No roads are longer than the feet;

No mountains are higher than human beings. dFq0vF/ThiQWPP14QJnelkO7ayONDz49G+190QghWkLQME0KDT5MVIgAGT4uzXHQ

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