For quite a long time, since the days of my childhood br Which spent it br In searching, br Searching and searching so earnestly br But found I not, br The wisps and whiffs of romanticism not, br But the glow and glisten of the classical scholarship br Radiating just like the golden wheat ears. br br Where that unknown scholar, where that classical scholar br Living his life simply, br Making the people aware of, br Where his vast scholarship and reading, br Where his experience, br Knowledge and wisdom, br Gravity and perseverance, sobriety and ethics, br Sense of morality and duty-bound nature? br br Where the poor and humble scholar introducing not himself br In the public, br Averting the public gaze and notice, br Where his vast reading and accumulation of knowledge, br His love and admiration of metaphysics, br Where his morality and spirituality, br Where his sobriety and ethics, br Where that classical scholar, br Where his classicism? br br When he crosses over the river, the shepherd boys and girls br Talk of his going, crossing over the dry river bed, br Interrupt and intercept they br To give him a bouquet of wild flowers, br The scholar gipsy in the gait of his, br Into the smiles and living of his own, br With nothing to put an air, br Just going simply, just living simply br Without caring for br What the wide world takes him for.