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Crossing the bridge rice noodle self-selected poem

One day I'm going to be able to break away from myself

Breaking away from time, language

Transient joys and pains

On one night, I used to think

We could love each other like this all our lives

A garden

In my damp body

Now I can only tell you this

The longing of my heart

Often I have flapped my wings and flown

And all you see

Maybe it's just my reflection in the water

Or maybe it's a blackbird. A blackbird

flying in my shadow

Lyrics

If I had to choose

I'd like to scrub my hands in the mud

and then pick up the wheat, and then write a poem

First, I'd like to write a poem to

The maiden who draws the water in the short dusk of the day at the edge of the water

with her hair covered with wildflowers

I spy you.

I saw your breasts

Jiggling and heavy and impossible to push

Your breasts

have been weighing me down for so many years

They should have something to do with the fall

And with the first grain

Like a crop

Standing in love with earth and rain

A nourishment that feeds my life

And I want to write to

That short dusk by the water

With wildflowers at her side to draw water.

A nourishment that feeds my life

A song I've been singing all my life

Lifting my scythe, I'm full of tears

Written to Hoe

After winter

I've been seeing him

With his bucket of paint and his brushes

Mornings brighten up

Descriptions like this are the same as the description that puts the limewash on the trees for the winter

Another way to describe it is to say that the crop is the same.