To the eastern edge of the vast field
Where the winding stream murmurs the old tales,
And dappled oxen
Mourn lazily in the golden-hued dusk,
Will such a place, ever be forgotten even in dreams
When the ashes cool in the earthen brazier
The night wind gallops through the empty field,
Where the weary old father, drowsy from a light nap
Lays his head on a straw pillow with care,
Will such a place, ever be forgotten even in dreams
My heart, nurtured in the earth
Yearns for the sky’s serene blue
In search of aimless arrows, lost to the wind
Where, The garments soaked with the dew of the grass,
Will such a place, ever be forgotten even in dreams
With a young sister, her raven hair aflutter in the breeze
Like the night’s waves danced in mirth in legendary sea
Unassuming wife, in every season’s embrace with bare feet
And takes it all in stride
Bearing the hot sun on their backs, gathering rice stalks,
Will such a place, ever be forgotten even in dreams
Amidst the sparsely scattered stars in the sky
Stepping on unknown, sparse sandcastles,
Frostbitten crows cawing past shabby roofs,
Gathering around in the dimly lit, murmuring softly,
Will such a place, ever be forgotten even in dreams