There is room for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice.
My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you
away? Your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling
smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the
rain cloud.
The travellers will land for different roads and homes. You
will sit for a while on the prow of my boat, and at the journey's
end none will keep you back.
Where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves? I
will not question you, but when I fold my sails and moor my boat
I shall sit and wonder in the evening, -Where do you go, and to
what home, to garner your sheaves?
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Comments2What a touching poem! "Your robe is coloured like the rain cloud"... such a vivid imagery! Also loved "where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves?" But, what sheaves are meant here?
This poem really showcases the beautiful mystery of an unexpected encounter. It leaves me pondering about the transient nature of relationships and the lingering curiosity they often leave behind. Really touching!