A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems/Song (1)
SONG
By Sung Tzŭ-hou [second century A. D.]
On the Eastern Way at the city of Lo-yang
At the edge of the road peach-trees and plum-trees grow;
On the two sides,— flower matched by flower;
Across the road,— leaf touching leaf.
A spring wind rises from the north-east;
Flowers and leaves gently nod and sway.
Up the road somebody's daughter comes
Carrying a basket, to gather silkworms' food.
[She sees the fruit trees in blossom and, forgetting about her silkworms, begins to pluck the branches.]
With her slender hand she breaks a branch from the tree;
The flowers fall, tossed and scattered in the wind.
The tree says:
Why should you hate me and do me injury?"
The lady answers:
When the white dew changes to hoar-frost,
At the year's end the wind would have lashed your boughs,
Your sweet fragrance could not have lasted long.
Though in the autumn your leaves patter to the ground,
When spring comes, your gay bloom returns.
But in men's lives when their bright youth is spent
Joy and love never come back again.