I walk alone in summer grasses
The air smells sweet of burning wood.
The white clouds nudge pale blue heavens
A mild breeze rises from the south.
Black earth beneath my feet brings comfort
I swat a bug that settles on my nose.
Cornstalks stand tall. Rainstorms will soon be coming.
Three mockingbirds salute me from above.
It's been a long while since I've been there.
My dancing hair hides in a heavy cap.
Life's yoke has pressed me to its blackened bosom
Gold fields of corn are just a dream.
But, look! I see those fields so clearly.
Time plays its games in cunning ways.
Now mockingbirds are singing, I can hear them
As morning promises rise from the dew.
Let's go together to those ancient pastures.
Let's dropp the yokes that weigh our tired frames.
Let's go to places locked in distant memory.
Our love will surely bring us home again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved walking with you there, first time hearing a mockingbird! !