Sat as I am in the same house,
old as my mum has grown,
mature as my brother and I have become.
Spring is feebly discerned through the melodious chirpings of sparrows.
Same tone, same rhythm, and same song!
All too familiar!
Sparrow! Sparrow!
Are you the same little birds that I know when I was young?
Or you are their progenies?
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