Under the banyan tree. I was standing still. I did not come near you.
jin tian an invention may when she let the tiger that a show I asked nothing were he was sort l um, I asked nothing only stood at the age of the wood behind the tree.
Longer was still upon the eyes of the dawn and the two in the air, the lazy smell of the damp grass home in a famous above the earth. Uh, end of the banyan tree, you were milking the cow with your hand tender and fresh as butter.
And I was standing still. I did not come near you, the skywalk with the sound of the gun at the temple. The dust was raised in the road from the hoofs of the driven cattle with a gurgling pictures at their hips.
Women came from the river, your bracelets were jingling and foam brimming over the jar. The morning were wrong. And I did not come near