Featuring with natural sound of bird singing, waves and wind, women who have spent their whole lives in such an isolated island, mumbling their old songs in a similar but unknown language.
That is not Japanese at all.
It is their own language.
It recalls the summer breeze at the magic hour over the horizon and the cool current under the ever emerald green ocean.
It is like a daydream suspending in the air over the sugar cane fields, overseeing the end of the seashore towards the ultimate wonder of the galaxy.
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