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.
WHEN I AWAKE in thy love my night of ease will be ended. Thy sunrise will touch my heart with its touch-stone of fire, and my voyage will begin in its orbit of triumphant suffering. I shall dare to take up death's challenge and carry thy voice in the heart of mockery and menace. I shall bare my breast against the wrongs hurled at thy children, and take the risk of standing by thy side where none but thee remains.