From a violent toothache,
I was holding a swollen cheek,
As I dug near the jujube tree,
Wishing to plant some seeds.
Getting my genteel fingers muddied up,
I turned over the chilly ground.
O, I do remember this much,
That cold day, that evening,
In the fresh-dug hole, there was
A worm wiggling inside.
And that moment, behind the eaves down low,
The moon came up as if to slither up
Behind a woman's ear — and that's how
It came up, the moon.