Oh, rain, do not break…

 
Do you remember that day, bird?
Silent evening. A fragment of sky.
There, a crowd of countless stars.
That day a weaver bird
spread its wings against that sky!
In that moment I named you: weaver!


Lotus blooms had opened in the garden pond.
The jasmine tree on the bank
scattered its fragrance in the southern breeze.
Do you remember?
A sliver of moon, moonlight's caress. Together they
wrapped this world
in one vast sheet.


Time is flying by...swiftly!
Past night to dawn, blazing sunlight.
Ahead, green meadows. I see. I think...
Ah, how lovely, ah, how lovely!
I too have a bird,
she calls, beats her wings.
So dear to watch. At some point,
morning rolled into blessed afternoon.


Lazy afternoon. I lie here. Thinking of you.
They sing, they talk.
Only I have no urgency...
In my mind, only you.
A sweep of evening came and cast light in my eyes.
Somewhere a cuckoo called, perhaps...
Silence broke. You were still there.


At twilight an entire day,
tears in its eyes, prepares to leave.
Still I'm laughing. I've seen how eyes can dance too.
You're with me, clinging to me.
Ah, I have a bird, a weaver bird!


Bird, are you listening?
The endless path of infinite love—
that path has come to your boundary today
and stopped, for this lifetime.
Two handfuls of clear glass bangles,
their innocent, wayward tinkling...
today in a muffled voice they seem
to call someone! I know it's you too.


Bird, even today I call you blessing...
as before. The black sea today
sleeps peacefully. The storm has stopped.
You had said, one day the storm would end.
Today, perhaps, is that day!
All the suppressed cries, they no longer
press against the peacock's plume.
Today even the boat's sail is half-burned.
My little bird just beats her wings...
How good it feels to be alive!


You didn't see...
in the womb of some silent fire
restless sparks only wept!
In some unknown land, familiar melodies
fell one after another, becoming poems.
Don't you remember, weaver?
Look how crazy I am! Babbling on all by myself!


Bird, are you listening?
It's you I'm calling!
Calling you so tenderly by the name weaver!
Today's tide is troubling me so!
Still you won't speak?
Did you just fall asleep and leave me behind?
Were you very busy all afternoon?
Exhaustion throughout your body...
you don't feel like talking,
your head aches badly...
Is that why you won't come? Keeping me waiting?


In this garden of waiting,
at such a raw moment of time,
must I just stand here like this?
Tell me yourself, how can that be?


Look just a little,
these eyes that wove dreams with you
will look no more,
will not see you with their gaze,
will not want you with their kisses...
Can this be too, tell me, bird?


In the hollow of your hands, suddenly,
my hand will no longer nestle...
you'll no longer say with love...
Come, bird...let's walk a little!
No one will write to you anymore...
This little bird! Are you listening?
I call to you all the time!
...if such a thing truly happened,
who would sit there, tell me...
in such waiting that day?