The Home
I paced alone on the road across the field while the sunset was hiding its last gold like a miser.
The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land, whose harvest had been reaped, lay silent.
Suddenly a boy’s shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening.
His village home lay there at the end of the waste land, beyond the sugar-cane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca palm, the coconut and the dark green jack-fruit trees.
I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight, and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms counbtless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mother’s hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world.
家庭
我独自在横跨过田地的路上走着,夕阳像一个守财奴似的,正藏起他的最后的金子。
白昼更加深沉地没入黑暗之中,那已经收割了的孤寂的田地,默默地躺在那里。
天空里突然升起了一个男孩子的尖锐的歌声,他穿过那看不见的黑暗,留下他的歌声的辙痕跨过黄昏的静谧。