The Crescent Moon
The Home
I paced alone on the road across the field while the sunset was hiding its last gold like a miser.
The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness， and the widowed land， whose harvest had been reaped， lay silent.
Suddenly a boy’s shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen， leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening.
His village home lay there at the end of the waste land， beyond the sugar-cane field， hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca-palm， the coconut and the dark green jack-fruit trees.
I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight， and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds， mothers’ hearts and evening lamps， and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world.
我独自走在穿越田地的小路上，夕阳像一个吝啬鬼，正藏起它最后的一点儿金子。
白昼渐渐地没入深深的黑暗之中，那收割后的田野，孤寂、沉默地躺在那里。
突然，一个男孩尖锐的歌声划破了天空，他穿越看不见的黑暗，留下他的歌声回**在静谧的黄昏里。
他的家就在荒地边缘的村落里，穿过甘蔗园，隐匿在香蕉树和瘦长的槟榔树，以及椰子树和深绿色的榴莲的阴影里。
星光下，我独自行走着，途中停留了片刻，看着幽暗的大地在我的面前展开，正用她的双臂拥抱着无数的家庭，那里有摇篮和床铺，有母亲们的心和夜晚的灯光，还有年轻的生命，自然而欢乐，却全然不知这欢乐对于世界的价值。
On The Seashore
On the seashore of endless world children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless world the children meet with shouts and dances.