Soapberry scent

Mother sitting under the shade of the tree at noon
The sunlight flowers are sparsely falling
Hair soft as wind and clouds
Mother's fragrant shampoo, her hands brushed evenly

Wash away the dust of morning and evening
Wash your hair as light as a kite flying across
Brush tangles into rows
Brush the warp and weft yarns evenly

The fragrance around where mother sits
Dry hair, wind blowing up to the sky
Wash hair, boil water by hand
Mother's habits from ancient times

Now mother is old
Over the years, hair thinned on the head
Where is the scent of soapberry now?
Far away from home, the noon sun still lingers.