THE SUN SHINES, the rain pours down in showers,

the leaves glisten in the bamboo grove,

the smell of the newly tilled earth fills the air.

Our hands are strong, our hearts glad,

as we toil from morning till night to plough the land.

The spirit of a poet dances in swaying cadence

along the meadows, writing its verses of green lines,

spreading ripples of thrill through the ripening rice field.

The Earth's heart is joyous in the sunny October hours,

in the cloudless nights of the full moon,

as we toil from morning till night to plough the land.