畦鼓初鸣 · First Frogs by the Rice Furrow

At the edge of a late-summer rice field, rain has just passed and the irrigation water lies still beneath the evening sky. The first frog calls rise through wet grass and green rice, carrying the listener from the last warmth of summer toward the first clear breath of autumn.

Guzheng leads the piece with sparse, bell-like plucked phrases. The vocal arc stays close to the field: quiet verses, a gently opened refrain, and a bridge where the coming season is heard before it is seen.

暮云压畦，微雨初歇 水涵田影，蛙声一阕

新水入畦，晚稻含青 篱根草湿，萤火未明 蜻蜓收翼，斜阳已沉 一缕凉风，过我衣襟

蛙声起，稻花低 一畦风过一畦齐 不问秋深何处至 且听清响入烟陂

泥香在履，水光在汀 远村初静，短笛无声 叶底藏响，断续相应 似有微钟，落入荒城

蛙声起，稻花低 一畦风过一畦齐 不问秋深何处至 且听清响入烟陂

谁将金风，吹入畦畔 未见霜华，先闻蛙唤 我倚疏篱，久立无言 一声一声，暑尽秋还

蛙声起，稻花低 清露初凝，远烟齐 莫问秋深何处至 已随清响到心扉

水涵田影，暮色微深 蛙声渐远，留在衣襟