English Rendering
Farmers have but little leisure,
but the fifth month is the busiest;
last night there came a strong south wind and the wheat turned to gold in the fields;
came wives and daughters with carrying-poles,
children with water pots,
streaming out to the fields to serve the strong lads harvesting;
heat from the earth burned the reapers feet;
the sun played on their backs like fire,
yet all were so busy they did not care;
they only feared that the sun would soon set.
And then I saw coming a poor woman carrying her child on her back,
in her right hand some ears she had gleaned,
in her left a broken basket;
and I listened to her as she spoke:
"The crop in my home all goes for taxes; only if I glean can I get enough to fill my stomach!"
I look at myself wondering what right have I,
what special virtue,
to be given three hundred piculs of rice each year,
enough to eat with plenty to spare;
I listen and feel shame;
this I cannot forget.
