Clouds rumble across the sky and the rain pours in I sit alone by the river, despairing within. The sheaves lie gathered, the harvest is done, The river gleams fierce ‘neath the fading sun. I continued reaping though, till the downpour began.
One small field of crops and here I’m all alone Water’s twisting and swirling far and wide. On the opposite shore, a village lies, Shadows of trees and clouds veil its skies. On this side, only this field of crops, and I am all alone.
Who sings and steers so near the shore? I feel I’ve known that voice, that face before. The sails are full, her gaze is still Waves break helplessly against each keel And I feel I’ve known that voice, that face before.
Oh where do you go– to what foreign land do you sail? Come and moor your boat for a while. Go where you want to, give to whom you care, But come to the bank for a moment, And take away my golden crops as you sail.
Take, take as much as you can load. Is there more? No, nothing. I've put everything on the board. My intense labour here by the river- I've parted with it all, layer upon layer Now please be kind, and take me to your care.
No room’s left, the boat is too small– Already filled with my golden crops. Across the Srabon-sky Clouds drift and sway. Here on the barren shore, alone I stay. Whatever I had is gone All has been taken away by that golden boat.
