Brothers. In the countryside, I met a bro, a farmer. Then, in the field,
I saw another one, clearly it’s my own brother. My ragged brother
with a sack is picking soybeans. Indeed, other than a poet like me,
besieged by life in all directions, there is also my soybean brother
weathering rain and wind. The sun sprinkles gold dust in the air,
where we reap the joy of our labor: poetry or shriveled beans.
Mother once said, the scholars are good for nothing; those bending down to pick fruits from the earth
make me feel more at home, in my sweet hometown.
Which land in the world has the vista of home?
It is the field where someone is bending down to pick up something.
Translated by Duck Yard Lyricists
Duck Yard Lyricists is a group of devoted poetry lovers: Meifu Wang, Peter Micic, Michael Soper & Johan Ramaekers.
(来源:中国诗歌网每日好诗)