The man of greatness saw a great land, a great life, and a great death, but I am just a forgotten tale and I need a brave poet with a magic boat to discover me. Here, in my land there are no poems, so you can depict the intensity of smoke in a land where there are no poems. Our homes are completely different from scented houses and the women here can afford nothing but sad hearts. The grass here is different, and if the poets see the grass in my land, they will change their idea of life. Yes, we're the sons of houses that don't have doors; I mean the doors of life.