The Jade Mountain/A Song of an Old Cypress

by Du Fu

A SONG OF AN OLD CYPRESS

Beside the Temple of the Great Premier stands an ancient cypressWith a trunk of green bronze and a root of stone.The girth of its white bark would be the reach of forty menAnd its tip of kingfisher-blue is two thousand feet in heaven.Dating from the days of a great ruler's great statesman,Their very tree is loved now and honoured by:the people.Clouds come to it from far away, from the Wu cliffs,And the cold moon glistens on its peak of snow.. . . East of the Silk Pavilion yesterday I foundThe ancient ruler and wise statesman both worshipped in one temple,Whose tree, with curious branches, ages the whole landscapeIn spite of the fresh colours of the windows and the doors.And so firm is the deep root, so established underground,That its lone lofty boughs can dare the weight of winds,Its only protection the Heavenly Power,Its only endurance the art of its Creator.. . . When beams are required to restore a great house,Though oxen sway ten thousand heads, they cannot move a mountain. Though a tree writes no memorial, yet people understandThat not unless they fell it can use be made of it. . .Its bitter heart may be tenanted now by black and white ants,But its odorous leaves were once the nest of phœnixes and pheasants.. . . Let wise and hopeful men harbour no complaint.The greater the timber, the tougher it is to use.

(90)