Verdant orchid leaves of Spring; Cassia blooms bright in Autumn; Thriving plants, top to bottom. Festivals planned by their timings. Who knows the forest recluse -- Pleased with winds and winds with he. Plants have stems, branches, and roots Why beg a belle to pluck their fruits.
This is poem #2 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首,] and is the second in a quartet of poems called 感遇 [Gan Yu.] The original poem in Simplified Chinese goes:
Maybe the first lines constrain the last; Maybe ends insist on openings; Maybe some truths escape all words; Maybe dulcet lines tell no truths. One may need to keep separated -- Beauty and truth -- to avoid wounds. Inspect and haggle over each word -- Distinctions maybe finer than a hair; Weigh each edit upon a scale; Ensure each cut serves its purpose.
I heard thee laugh, And in this merriment I defined the measure of my pain; I knew that I was alone, Alone with love, Poor shivering love, And he, little sprite, Came to watch with me, And at midnight We were like two creatures by a dead camp-fire.
If you desire the self, get out of the self. Leave the shallow stream behind And flow into the river deep and wide. Don't be an ox pulling the wheel of the plow, Turn with the stars that wheel above you.
As translated in: Helminski, Kabir (ed.). 2018. The Pocket Rumi. Boulder, CO: Shambhala South Asia Editions. p. 4; translators: Kabir Helminski, Camille Helminski, and Lida Saedian
I'll tell you a plan for gaining wealth, Better than banking, trade or leases — Take a bank note and fold it up, And then you will find your money in creases! This wonderful plan, without danger or loss, Keeps your cash in your hands, where nothing can trouble it; And every time that you fold it across, 'Tis as plain as the light of the day that you double it!
"Have you ever made a just man?" "Oh, I have made three," answered God, "But two of them are dead, And the third -- Listen! Listen! And you will hear the thud of his defeat."
