Shawumi, Come Back!
The frond tips of the betel palm
pierce the full moon
Its bright light streams through
the wooden window
Shining on me as I get ready
to go up into the mountains
Shining on my basket and curved knife
in the corner of the room
Basket on my back
Full of millet and taro
I gird my waist
Tie on the curved knife
inherited from my grandfather
I'm off to the mountains, the mountains
The cock's crow urges on my heavy steps
It's early spring, and the air is like
Millet wine just up from the cellar
Its bouquet joins my love song
On the path to the mountains
Where countless insects sing
I'm off to the mountains, the mountains
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I sing my love's name
No matter how many times the sun
rises and sets in the sea of clouds
No matter how many times the moon
waxes and wanes in the night sky
I never tire of singing
The name of my love
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I plant the taro roots one by one
I sow handfuls of millet in the fields
Wait with excitement for a bountiful harvest
Carrying my curved knife and tinder
I cross one mountain after another
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
Singing your name again and again
Your name is food everlasting
Like the taro in the ground
Like the millet in the fields
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
A basket and seeds on my back
I cross one mountain after another
Guided by the cries of the owl
Searching the ancient myths and legends
Following the murmuring of springs
Thinking of Shawumi, who left long ago
Oh, a young girl bought with a military pension
When you think of your love here in the mountains
Do you sing this song again and again:
Who are you, who are you
Standing on the mountain
singing to me
Your figure and your song
More beautiful than a rainbow
Who are you, who are you
Standing on the mountain
singing to me
Your figure and your song
More majestic than a waterfall
Oh, your love's longings
Are hemmed in by the mountains
Bound by the murmuring springs
Day after day, mountain
after mountain
Through summer heat and storms
My browned body grows stronger
My thick hands and feet grow calloused
Finally, when autumn cicadas sing
in praise of summer
The taros are big and plentiful
The millet in the fields moves
in golden waves
Shawumi, come back!
Let us sing a song of joy for the harvest
Shawumi, come back!
Let me pick a taro leaf
Filled with sparkling dewdrops for a
betrothal gift
Let me brew a jug of sweet millet wine
We will drink it from traditional paired drinking cups
all night long
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I carry a curved knife and tinder
With love and hope undying
One mountain after another
Singing your name again and again
Come back, oh, come back!
Come home, where millet and taro
pierce the full moon
Its bright light streams through
the wooden window
Shining on me as I get ready
to go up into the mountains
Shining on my basket and curved knife
in the corner of the room
Basket on my back
Full of millet and taro
I gird my waist
Tie on the curved knife
inherited from my grandfather
I'm off to the mountains, the mountains
The cock's crow urges on my heavy steps
It's early spring, and the air is like
Millet wine just up from the cellar
Its bouquet joins my love song
On the path to the mountains
Where countless insects sing
I'm off to the mountains, the mountains
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I sing my love's name
No matter how many times the sun
rises and sets in the sea of clouds
No matter how many times the moon
waxes and wanes in the night sky
I never tire of singing
The name of my love
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I plant the taro roots one by one
I sow handfuls of millet in the fields
Wait with excitement for a bountiful harvest
Carrying my curved knife and tinder
I cross one mountain after another
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
Singing your name again and again
Your name is food everlasting
Like the taro in the ground
Like the millet in the fields
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
A basket and seeds on my back
I cross one mountain after another
Guided by the cries of the owl
Searching the ancient myths and legends
Following the murmuring of springs
Thinking of Shawumi, who left long ago
Oh, a young girl bought with a military pension
When you think of your love here in the mountains
Do you sing this song again and again:
Who are you, who are you
Standing on the mountain
singing to me
Your figure and your song
More beautiful than a rainbow
Who are you, who are you
Standing on the mountain
singing to me
Your figure and your song
More majestic than a waterfall
Oh, your love's longings
Are hemmed in by the mountains
Bound by the murmuring springs
Day after day, mountain
after mountain
Through summer heat and storms
My browned body grows stronger
My thick hands and feet grow calloused
Finally, when autumn cicadas sing
in praise of summer
The taros are big and plentiful
The millet in the fields moves
in golden waves
Shawumi, come back!
Let us sing a song of joy for the harvest
Shawumi, come back!
Let me pick a taro leaf
Filled with sparkling dewdrops for a
betrothal gift
Let me brew a jug of sweet millet wine
We will drink it from traditional paired drinking cups
all night long
Shawumi, oh, Shawumi!
I carry a curved knife and tinder
With love and hope undying
One mountain after another
Singing your name again and again
Come back, oh, come back!
Come home, where millet and taro
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