Let the country be as calm as this small village
And the people will be happy.
Even with tools to make work go quicker,
They enjoy the labor of hands.
Even with death met gravely,
They have no great causes to die for.
Even with vehicles,
They have nowhere to drive;
Even with weapons,
They have no one to pierce.

They begin to enjoy food again,
Care for clothing again,
Clean their homes again,
Gossip with the neighbors again,
And rejoice in the way things are.

The next village can be seen from here on a clear day.
In the distance, the roosters are crowing, dogs are barking.
And still, should I grow old and die here,
Without ever having gone to visit,
There is nothing that I have missed.