From China
I thought : — The moon. Shining upon the many steps of the palace before me.
Shines also upon the chequered rice-fields Of my native land. And my tears fell Like white rice grains At my feet.
Amy Lowell
I thought : — The moon. Shining upon the many steps of the palace before me.
Shines also upon the chequered rice-fields Of my native land. And my tears fell Like white rice grains At my feet.
Standing before a palace at night, the speaker watches moonlight fall across the many steps. Then comes a quieter realization: that same moon is shining on the chequered rice fields of their native land. The palace steps may be grand, but they are not home, and the thought lands with a sudden ache.
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