Amongst the Yangtze I feel sunlight,
a hum of the forest breaks down the barrier
that is capturing my thoughts.
The return of Spring will also rise
and greet anyone who is willing,
to greet him.
Legends declare my future,
but I heard the decree-
and my road shall split.
Keep my hills and streams close at heart,
but do not allow the smell of the city to make it here
to the garden.
What form is broken?