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To live on Sakhalin is neat—
It’s like the world ends at your feet.
No flights have crossed that border line,
No airlines now, and that was fine...

But wait, what’ s this? A door swings wide!
Like thunder news comes from inside:
A ferry line, JapanFerry,
Now sells you tickets—fast and merry!

So sail away to lands serene,
Where red suns shine on fields of green.
Then come back home, where birches sway,
And sudden homesick hearts will stay.