|La versione inglese di Kenneth Rexroth (1970)|
|At fifteen I went with the army,|
At fourscore I came home.
On the way I met a man from the village,
I asked him who there was at home.
"That over there is your house,
All covered over with trees and bushes."
Rabbits had run in at the dog-hole,
Pheasants flew down from the beams of the roof.
In the courtyard was growing some wild grain;
And by the well, some wild mallows.
I'll boil the grain and make soup.
Soup and porridge are both cooked,
But there is no one to eat them with.
I went out and looked towards the east,
While tears fell and wetted my clothes.
|At fifteen I joined the army.|
At twenty-five I came home at last.
As I entered the village
I met an old man and asked him,
"Who lives in our house now?"
"Look down the street,
There is your old home."
Pines and cypresses grow like weeds.
Rabbits live in the dog's house.
Pigeons nest in the broken tiles.
Wild grass covers the courtyard.
Rambling vines cover the well.
I gather wild millet and make a pudding
And pick some mallows for soup.
When soup and pudding are done,
There is no one to share them.
I stand by the broken gate,
And wipe the tears from my eyes.