Ode to the Plum Blossom
Near the broken bridge outside the fortress,
I go, lonely and disoriented.
It is dusk and I am alone and anxious,
Especially when the wind and rain start to blow.
I do not mean to fight for Springtime,
I would rather be alone and envied by the crowd.
I will fall down, become earth, be crushed to dust.
My glory will be same as before.
Lu You (1125 -1210)
When Gautama finally lost His deceiving eyes,
There appeared in the snow a single blossom on one bough of the Old Plum Tree.
What has now arrived is the growing of thorn-like spurs,
So that all the more I laugh at the spring winds which send all things flying in disarray