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The Call
Yu Kwang-chung
Just as, in my childhood,
Across that field of flowering rapes
Behind the old house,
I trotted on and on till dark,
When sun was set and cold was sweat,
And seemed to hear from afar
Mother's voice calling me
To come home for supper,
Imagine how in my age,
When sun is set and cold is sweat,
There from the house of 5000 years
A lamp by the window is seen
And a voice is heard,
Even more soothing and moving
Than in my childhood,
Calling me to come home.
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