Just a bird singing at night. I don't recognize it.
When I came back from spring and walked through the rock pasture,
I stood quietly, and the sky above me was as quiet as the sky in a bucket.
How many years have passed, how many places have lost face, and some people have passed away.
And I stood in the distance, the night was so quiet, I finally decided.
What I miss most is not what will eventually disappear.
It's the silence when birds sing.
Home in the rain /Eou Genio de andrade (Portuguese)
Rain, rain falls on the olive tree again.
I don't know why it rained again this afternoon
Now that my mother has left.
No longer go to the terrace to watch the rain.
Stop lifting your eyes from sewing.
Ask me: Did you hear that?
I heard you, mom. It is raining again.
Raindrops hit your face.
Jinhua
Tagore
Crescent series
If I become a golden flower, for fun,
Growing on a tall branch, swinging in the air with a smile,
Mom, will you still know me?
If you yell, "Where are you, son?"
I snickered there, but didn't say a word.
I will quietly open my petals and watch you work.
When taking a bath, my wet hair falls over my shoulders and passes through the golden flowers shaded by green trees.
When you go to the small courtyard of prayer, you will smell the flowers.
But I didn't know the smell came from me.
At lunch, I sat at the window and read Ramayana.
When the shadow of that tree falls on your hair and knees,
I want to cast my little shadow on your page,
Right where you are reading.
But can you guess that this is a small shadow of your child?
When you take the lamp to the cowshed at dusk,
I'm going to suddenly fall to the ground again,
To be your child again, please tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you bad boy?"
"I won't tell you, mom."
That's what you and I were trying to say.
Give it to my mother.
Although I haven't said hello to you for a long time,
I didn't write to you, but don't let your heart
Doubt, as if your son should.
My deep love for you comes from my chest.
Disappear. Nothing like that stone,
Always rooted in the bottom of the water,
It will never leave its position, even if it is running water.
Sometimes with wind and waves, sometimes with soft waves through it.
It flows by, so people can't see it,
My love for you is so inseparable.
In my chest, despite the long river of life,
Sometimes I am hit by pain and roll violently.
Sometimes quietly caressed by happiness,
Coverage and blockade make it impossible.
You can't reflect around the sun.
The returning sunshine is in front of your loving mother.
Let you know how much your son respects you.
Gabriela mistral (Chile)
Show tender concern for ...
Mom, mom, kiss me,
I want to kiss you more,
Direct kiss
You can't see anything else . . . . .
Bees get into lilies,
Flowers don't think it flaps their wings.
When you hide your son,
I can't hear his breathing. . . . . .
I've been watching you,
Not tired at all,
A child appears in your eyes,
How beautiful he looks. . . . . .
Everything you saw.
Like a pond;
But only your son
Reflected in the eyes.
The eyes you gave me,
I want to use it heartily,
Watching you all the time
Whether in the valley, the ocean or the sky. . . . . . .