My last harvest
I have loaded on the boat
The day is closing
My farming on this bank is over
To the yonder bank
Now I am ready to go
Across the river
Under starlit skies
The swan leaves the beach on its wings
Their flapping echoes in my heart
In ebbing tides the river sings
And rushes to the sea
My mind goes floating
Along with its flow
Whatever I gathered I take with me
They are neither my happiness
Nor my sorrows
Nor again any of my dreams
I hear the boatman's song he sings
To the rhythms of the strokes of his oars.
