此岸到彼岸，来回摆渡，村里所有正在沐浴的男孩女孩，都会惊奇地望着我。

　　太阳升到半空，清晨变为正午，我会跑到您那里，说 :”妈妈，我饿了！“

　　一天结束了，影子俯伏在树底下，我会在黄昏时回家。

　　我一定不会像爸爸那样，离开您到城里工作。

　　妈妈，如果您不介意，我长大后，一定要当这渡船的船夫。

　　The Flower-School

　　When storm clouds ramble in the sky and June showers come down.

　　The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its bagpipes among the bamboos.

　　Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden, from nobody knows where, and dance upon the grass in wild glee.

　　Mother, I really think the flowers go to school underground.

　　They do their lessons with doors shut, and if they want to come out to play before it is time, their master makes them stand in a corner.

　　When the rains come they have their holidays.

　　Branches clash together in the forest, and the leaves rustle in the wild wind, the thunder-clouds clap their giant hands and the flower children rush out in dresses of pink and yellow and white.

　　Do you know, mother, their home is in the sky, where the stars are.

　　Haven't you seen how eager they are to get there? Don't you know why they are in such a hurry?

　　Of course, I can guess to whom they raise their arms: they have their mother as I have my own.