THE CART TRACK IN THE RAIN

A rainbow arches across a rain-washed sky
Frogs croak in the grass
The roads are muddy and greasy.

I lie in the eastern bed
One half-hour of a beautiful night
Is worth a thousand tales.

Wronged on a false charge,
Carrying gems in my bosom,
Grasping valuables with my hands

Writing instruments always at my side,
They got me for the wrong act.
This time the rainfall was unfavourable

Whilst the sea gave way to mulberry groves
Which in turn, turned into the sea.