As I grew older, I realize

The longer the length my hair the grows, the further the thread connects me and my hometown.

I used to imagine that thread between me and my hometown, was like the intestine attached from a mother's belly to the child.

On a dew - soaked river, and I'm the boatman

Bark of a bamboo tree in my hand.

Despite the excruciating pain, tearing through the buried umbilical cord

It must be cut