I am an Eastern man and as a human being I have a feeling so I love the sun and as you I have beautiful dreams, but I am not from the West so you do not want my friendship and do not show me your love. Yes, I am very Eastern, and my father is from this land and has a headband, and my grandfather has a thick woolen cloak but this is not an excuse for you to prevent me to visit New York or walk on Brooklyn. We are farmers and know the gaze of the birds and understand the words of water and the moon has a lovely tales in our memories and we can also make coffee and tea and for this I do not see any reason for you to sit there on that hill and close your windows in waiting for the rain to make me leave from the street in front of your house. In fact, I do not see that I am a very primitive creature as you think and the veil worn by my mother is like the green leaves embracing a white rose in the morning which blooming easily in the evening in her loving garden. My friend, I know that I am a farmer from the east; my heart is full of love and light, but some eyes are wearing black glasses.