Southern Grain, Northern Scrolls

One was born in the wilds and raised on dew and wind.

The other grew up among books, faithful to the passing years.

A seedling breaks through the soil, and a heart begins to race.

He gave all his tenderness to the girl who carried the scent of grass and trees.

The wilds are filled with the fragrance of rice, and books are lit by starlight,

but I have only you.