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Behind the trees beside the fieldI feel a river floating in a speedHeating Sun heated the waterAnimals feeling heat of the waterFalling water from the skyWhere are the birds trying to hideI think there is no end of timeWhere is the river taking that PieIn the cold being the iceIn the heat being the airI think for a while it is a way Which always passes awayRiver flowing from the mountsCome to the hills and being loudFlow deep to the endAnd last come to the plain