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Track When I am pacing alone over an uneven track, the wondrous image of life that arises in my mind is inexpressible. It appears as though I were a lone traveller who, separated from all others treading that variegated path of life, was moving towards some far away land of light.
Love overspreads the vast, infinite, undivided, serene firmament and below stretches forth the placid, multi-coloured, hallowed and affectionate Mother Earth-No one else is there as colleague or companion over the path of life for me: Only that forlorn track passing through the wood gives rise to this sentiment in me.
The roads that are built with modern material may be attractive, but are they capable of producing a touch of sentiment? Is it possible to evoke through artificial elements a sentiment usually engendered by objects natural:
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