Classical Paddy Fields
Written by Tang Shenglin
Translated by Tulip
Take a whiff of pure soil
Touch this verdant tree
Read this classic paddy fields
It is a picturesque of daily-up- terraced fields
He is our ancestor and parent
The porcelain burned with slow fire
The historical relics wrapped with silk
As relics perhaps it’s not fine
Because he must stay behind for care, or persist
He must feel itchy on skin, moldy in mood
He is bound to yearn to chatter repeatedly
Rice, sons, grandsons, and bugs
Rice, sons, grandsons, and bugs
Repeatedly chatter about teams of wandering fireflies
The soul of those ancestors