A Rural Scene
The streams are foaming white; fields bright with green,
Amid misty rain the nighthawk’s cry is keen.
Among farms in May no leisure hands are found,
When silk time ends, then planting rice comes around.
The Village in April
Hill and plain turn green, the full silver stream glitters,
In the mist-like rain many a cuckoo chippers.
In April there are few villagers who will play,
They feed silkworms and work in the fields right away.
april in the country
all the hills and plains
so green now
and the white flowers
taking up in the valley
the drizzling rain swirls in mist
where the cuckoos sing
you won’t see many people
lying around doing nothing
when April warms the countryside
we’ve just finished harvesting
mulberry leaves and hemp fibre
now we turn and begin
setting out the paddies
with rice seedings
All the rivers are white, and hills and fields are green;
Amid the sounds of cuckoos, like a mist falls the rain.
There’re no people idle in the rural village in April;
After silkworm-raising, planting rice shoots they’ve been.