Classic Poem

Father, unusually tense,
cleaned his workshop and carved wood for seals.
In an instant he finished and showed the result to everyone,
including me, a child.
On the splendid stem of cherry wood
was a deer carved with a single knife.
His society was going to have an Imperial visit the next day,
and he was ordered to sculpt in the Imperial presence, father said.
The carving was a rehearsal.
Father took a bath, purified his body,
and the next day had flints sparked on himself and left home.
He's going to show it to the Emperor, in person.
So fortunate for him.
“May he be free from any mistakes,”
mother said, and prayed at the Buddhist altar.
A child, I was much agitated
that he didn't come home though the sun had set.
At the rickshawman's cry, “He's home,”
I flew to the front door.