Chinese Whispers | Jiang Xi Province

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I was in a place where air was clean,
The hills bulbously green.
Soil copper red, sky light sweet blue,
Chinese whispers heard by a few.

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Yé Ye | 爷爷 | Grandpa

He was a lone traveller, a truly gentle man, who had nearly lost all his teeth. He sat at the back of the bus, hardly spoke, and often wandered away all by himself. When he did speak it was a dialect that nobody could understand.

 

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