Drinking Wine Together

It has been by me a long, long ride, upon many paths back to the village. The carrot in front of the mule it is nearly gone. How many times we have come this way, around the mountain she moves us steadily along. There is little noise of the carriage as the mule. Hope as for the bird of the air, comes light as day. Night is growing, as she the sky is moon looking full. The view of the beautiful mountain, continues to grow. From the south blows gently the breeze. Passing it, is one who comes and I stop as he asks. Kind sir to you the gentleman, and to whom is it possible to see into oneself, Look there, as the central part of she, next to you underneath? The one axle may in need, be of trouble. Many distant places I've seen. To the quick open bloom of the cherry tree. Have you kept all the limbs apart and your children look fair. As for this question, as for my request, It possesses to you, no clear meaning, such is speech. And of low disregard, when the road is not spoken clear? Drinking wine together is where it the road, soon we part.