Spider spins; fish jump. Many days have passed
and now here you are. Our pipe, I’m afraid,
holds just a taste of tobacco spit, and
the betel has pretty much had it, but, here.
The pond’s flooded, so fish are hard to catch.
The garden’s too large to chase down a chicken.
But here you are and I’m happy to see you
though the house is bare and the market, far off.