My love is coming! I take dinner early
My love is coming! I take dinner early,
run out the middle gate, to the outside gate, and sit on the step. I shield my eyes with my hand. Is he coming or not? I look at the mountain opposite. Something black and white is standing there: it must be my love.
Stockings clutched to my breast, shoes in my hand, I begin to run,
racing, rolling, faster, still faster, oblivious of dry ground or wet — for I have words of love to say. One quick look tells me all: last year's stripped flax stalks have deceived me.
Luckily
it is night, for if it were day, I might be the laughingstock of the place.
run out the middle gate, to the outside gate, and sit on the step. I shield my eyes with my hand. Is he coming or not? I look at the mountain opposite. Something black and white is standing there: it must be my love.
Stockings clutched to my breast, shoes in my hand, I begin to run,
racing, rolling, faster, still faster, oblivious of dry ground or wet — for I have words of love to say. One quick look tells me all: last year's stripped flax stalks have deceived me.
Luckily
it is night, for if it were day, I might be the laughingstock of the place.
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