Come home, my friend, on the day we pound the rice,
Together we’ll bring the harvest on your ox cart’s ride.
Bamboo flutes will sing in the neighbor’s yard,
Dust of the fields and tunes will meet as one heart.
Side by side on the wooden seat we stay,
Rice and lentils after a long hard day.
Peace will settle deep inside the chest,
Spice on our lips, joy at rest.
Morning sun melts dew along the way,
The ox cart walks where memories stay.
Golden paddy smiles beside the hay,
New rice aroma, white rice starts to sway.
Winter sun and date palm brew,
Foam rises soft in the cooking stew.
Stories born beside the grain,
Never sold, forever remain.
Side by side on the wooden seat we stay…
The pounding drum makes the courtyard shake,
Hearts start dancing, no pause to take.
Ducks call out, the chickens sing,
Laughing hours gently swing.
The soil below whispers—“Come back home,”
With you here, the golden songs begin to roam.
With a friend near, where is pain?
On harvest day, heaven falls on this village plain.
