The following is a poem:
I shall look up no more at the azure sky,
Nor lower my head to gaze at the limpid water,
But plant my feet with care,
Imprinting each step on the soil
And making deep footprints.
Though these impressions are small
And bound to vanish,
Though slow plodding matches ill
With the interminable road before me,
All I see are these clear footprints,
And they give me tremendous pleasure.
As for those distant vistas,
I cannot, will not trouble my head with them.
No more delay them