Watching the Reapers (观刈麦 白居易) - Farmers have but little leisure, but the fifth month is the busiest; last night there came a strong south wind and the wheat turned to gold in the fields; came wives and daughters with carrying-poles, children with water pots, streaming out to the fields to serve the strong lads harvesting; heat from the earth burned the reapers feet; the sun played on their backs like fire, yet all were so busy they did not care; they only feared that the sun would soon set. And then I saw coming a poor woman carrying her child on her back, in her right hand some ears she had gleaned, in her left a broken basket; and I listened to her as she spoke: “The crop in my home all goes for taxes; only if I glean can I get enough to fill my stomach!” I look at myself wondering what right have I, what special virtue, to be given three hundred piculs of rice each year, enough to eat with plenty to spare; I listen and feel shame; this I cannot forget. 田家少闲月，五月人倍忙。 夜来南风起，小麦覆陇黄。 妇姑荷箪食，童稚携壶浆。 相随饷田去，丁壮在南冈。 足蒸暑土气，背灼炎天光。 力尽不知热，但惜夏日长。 复有贫妇人，抱子在其旁。 右手秉遗穗，左臂悬敝筐。 听其相顾言，闻者为悲伤。 田家输税尽，拾此充饥肠。 今我何功德，曾不事农桑。 吏禄三百石，岁晏有余粮。 念此私自愧，尽日不能忘。
Lots to literally digest in this post. Thank you.
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