Foreign Bloom
Precious, pliant seed, you, washed on this new land by jealous current, are pitiable.
How often have lonely pilgrims landed desolate, crushed by native resistance?
To prosper here, you must be Spartan, laconic.
This isn’t your home of orient, where bamboo shoots and orchids flourish, and the perfume of Eden still lingers.
Though you may miss your land of tigers and silk, imagine the possibilities here.
Forget, rejoice!
Through these verdant greens and corky soil, soon you shall be the churlish conqueror, with no enemies but your own clinging to what has already passed.
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