Created in fire,
Then thrown to the ground,
Broken into pieces!
An inferior Chawan,
Not worthy of being used
In the dirt, wind and rain
Buried for 400 years
Worthless rubbish.
Oww, a hoe hit my head
Threw me into the air
And onto the dirt
Nuisance in the rice field!
Gentle hands pick me up,
Take me home, wash me.
Joined to other broken pieces
With gold, reborn as
A beautiful new Chawan
Gilded and precious
People cradle me, admire me.
Bring their lips to me
To sip delicious macha.
Cherished, happy to be cherished,
I want to live
For another hundred years,
Maybe forever.