You and I are sitting in the hamlet.
A plant has grown behind you and you don’t see it. Here, under the stone I am sitting on, there is a plant growing that I don’t see either.
Spring always comes here. The grass grows on its own, the wind blows through the trees and the light shines.
It has always been flourishing here while we had no seeds and no opportunity to cultivate.
Where can I go better than the hamlet?