One dies without regret of there is one in
the whole world a “bosom friend”, or one who “knows his heart”.
If there were no flowers and moon and
beautiful women, I would not want to be born in the world. If there were no pen and ink, poetry and horse,
there is no purpose in being born a man.
The light of hills, the sound of water, the
colour of moon, the fragrance of flowers, the charm of literary men and the
expression of beautiful woman are all elusive and indescribable.
To see famous hills and rivers, one must
have also predestined luck, unless the appointed time has come, one has no time
to see them even though they are situated with in a dozen miles.
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