The scarecrow with fluttering hands
Thought he scared away the blackbirds
Cawing in feigned terror, they dart about mockingly
The tattered suit, the dotted grin
Remained as timeless as the stacks of grain
From the paddies marking time by shadows
He only moves by wind, the only one
Trusted by heaven to be its witness
As the silent monitor of the passing of time
And all the human bumblings and errors
Lost to the pecking of ravens and rice birds
Ah, forlorn monument in the paddies
Who placed you there is the real fool
You cannot even scare away the tiny mice
Frolicking about your ragged hem.
Are you the stalwart sentinel designate
Who has concern over all?
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