When the hoe turns over new mud,
The whole village woke up.
Grandfather's cough,
The sparrows flew away from the locust tree.
Sunshine on the threshing floor,
Than mother's dustpan will sift.
Full wheat grains,
Learned to be silent before dusk.
The moss beside the well,
It gets softer every year.
The sound of the windlass squeaking,
Suddenly it was covered with weeds.
When the moonlight bleaches the courtyard,
All the farm tools started to lose sleep.
They remember,
The nickname of each seed.
