Get 20M+ Full-Text Papers For Less Than $1.50/day. Start a 14-Day Trial for You or Your Team.

Learn More →

Tomorrow's Weather Will Be Better

Tomorrow's Weather Will Be Better T A S H I P E L D E N 1 He drove his ox and his shaggy donkey, loaded with sacks of dung, along the rough, winding mountain path toward the little village that lay on the hill ahead. On his own back he carried a sack of sheep dung. From the neck of the ox hung a copper bell, from the donkey's neck an iron bell. With each lumbering step of the animals, the bells rang a contrasting harmony, splendid in the mountain stillness. The cord of the dung sack cut into the sun-darkened skin on the back of Kelsang Tashi's neck. He had looped the crimson tiestrings of his winter hat into a knot like a flower beneath his chin, so it swayed from side to side like the bells hanging from the animals' necks. Pearls of sweat sprang from his forehead and temples and ran down his cheeks, onto his jaw. When the trickling sweat stung his eyes, he wiped them with the cracked palm of his dirty hand. For fifty years he'd been carrying loads up and down this rough mountain path. Now his knees were swollen, and he hobbled like a http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Tomorrow's Weather Will Be Better

Tashi Pelden.
Manoa , Volume 12 (2) – Oct 1, 2000
Download PDF
10 pages

Loading next page...
 
/lp/university-of-hawai-i-press/tomorrow-s-weather-will-be-better-TvxjFzAmkB

References

References for this paper are not available at this time. We will be adding them shortly, thank you for your patience.

Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2000 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

T A S H I P E L D E N 1 He drove his ox and his shaggy donkey, loaded with sacks of dung, along the rough, winding mountain path toward the little village that lay on the hill ahead. On his own back he carried a sack of sheep dung. From the neck of the ox hung a copper bell, from the donkey's neck an iron bell. With each lumbering step of the animals, the bells rang a contrasting harmony, splendid in the mountain stillness. The cord of the dung sack cut into the sun-darkened skin on the back of Kelsang Tashi's neck. He had looped the crimson tiestrings of his winter hat into a knot like a flower beneath his chin, so it swayed from side to side like the bells hanging from the animals' necks. Pearls of sweat sprang from his forehead and temples and ran down his cheeks, onto his jaw. When the trickling sweat stung his eyes, he wiped them with the cracked palm of his dirty hand. For fifty years he'd been carrying loads up and down this rough mountain path. Now his knees were swollen, and he hobbled like a

Journal

Manoa – University of Hawai'I Press

Published: Oct 1, 2000

There are no references for this article.