Toiling away her life
On high and low paddy fields,
My aunt never once looked up,
Never even knew there was a moon.

Winter's Oath

It began the winter
My soldiering uncle did not return.
On a country afternoon
My aunt took the oath of winter.

A woman who waited for her husband,
Our legends say, has turned to stone.  But my aunt
Turned to nothing.  The stone will stand,
Holding a child, waiting for the footsteps of her faraway man.
But my aunt knew she was alone. Mountains are paired like man and wife,
They say, but my aunt embraced her longing, her hair turning white.

The day I crossed the bridge she did not cry,
Fearing she would ruin my wedding.
So now that her soul has gone to heaven,
I kowtow to her and fall prostrate to the winter sky.