That Distant Autumn Morning
Seven years.
I can still feel the fragrance of sandalwood incense.
And your image, Mother,
is as vivid as ever.
It was an Autumn morning,
sunny but cold.
You decided to go back
to thee place you had come from.
Shaking the bodice of your long, worn-out dress,
you put down the heavy burden
of pain and sorrow.
I did not cry.
The world looked so strange.
You left with your heart still bleeding.
My monk's robe was caressed by morning wind.
The sunshine was a golden color.
The sky was blue.
The hills were high.
And there was your small earthen grave, newly made.
When the few who stayed behind with me left,
I talked to you alone about life.
My heart was completely broken,
but I was at peace.
You suffered too much, Mother,
your existence weighed too heavily on your shoulders.
Seven years.
Since then you have come back to me many times.
and each time so alive.
Today I shed a tear for you of remembrance and compassion.
I want to share your pain and sorrow
with the heart of a child.
Still carrying existence on my shoulders,
I go back to that Autumn morning,
that distant Autumn morning,
filled with the fragrance of sandalwood incense.
You se, I am now on that high hill,
embraced by the bright sunshine.
Do stay with me the whole day, Mother.
I do not know where the events of life will bring me tomorrow,
but I know you are truly here.
My true love,
I want to cry silently,
my head covered in my two arms,
every time I go back to the sweet motherland of childhood. |
