The Old Women Of The Water Village Poem by RIC BASTASA

i

they are singing
paddling the boats that we are riding
following the path of a river
that shows us
old houses made of stones

we pass the bridge
where once the famous
Chinese painter
brushed
water colors for the
emperor


ii


for a fee
we have given them work
we are the tourists and they are
singing

if only we can understand the lyrics
of their old serenade
a la Venice

we could have realized
how stupid we are...