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on the Road to Old Shoe-shaped Village
Still he was living there, the child,
The boy, leaping, running,
In front of him his school bag
Tied on his shoulder, the pencils in the
Tin pencilcab in it producing
A most pleasant music of
Clear beautiful rhythm
And the sun on the sky still the same
Nine o’clock sun; the same
Puberty-green sweet persimmons peeping out
Through the leaves of persimmon trees
On the way; and now, the child
Turns to his classmate’s home on the
Roadside and she smiles back at him, but
In his eye there is nothing but a green
Pepper path;
And now, just on the
Other side of the hill, a small hill,
His own home with his Mom and Pa
Still young and powerful, working in the garden,
Wearing a big fresh smile, and his grandma
And a sister, still an infant…
But he must stop and turn back, letting
Only the child go on as ever and
Live with them forever; to fasten
The nine o’clock morning sun on the
Same spot of the sky; to keep the puberty-
Green sweet persimmons and his beautiful
Little seatmate from moving,
Waning away; to return to regain the child
Lost somewhere on time’s wornout road
Outside this green island. Still he was living there, the child,
The boy, leaping, running,
In front of him his school bag
Tied on his shoulder, the pencils in the
Tin pencilcab in it producing
A most pleasant music of
Clear beautiful rhythm
And the sun on the sky still the same
Nine o’clock sun; the same
Puberty-green sweet persimmons peeping out
Through the leaves of persimmon trees
On the way; and now, the child
Turns to his classmate’s home on the
Roadside and she smiles back at him, but
In his eye there is nothing but a green
Pepper path;
And now, just on the
Other side of the hill, a small hill,
His own home with his Mom and Pa
Still young and powerful, working in the garden,
Wearing a big fresh smile, and his grandma
And a sister, still an infant…
But he must stop and turn back, letting
Only the child go on as ever and
Live with them forever; to fasten
The nine o’clock morning sun on the
Same spot of the sky; to keep the puberty-
Green sweet persimmons and his beautiful
Little seatmate from moving,
Waning away; to return to regain the child
Lost somewhere on time’s wornout road
Outside this green island.
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