
unfurled buds,
not drooped to gravity,
tell Spring’s story.

unfurled buds,
not drooped to gravity,
tell Spring’s story.

trunk splits to branches
that stretch to the edge
of oxygen’s crossing.

understory thrives:
light plants & shadow plants
each finds its place.
I cut myself upon the thought of you
And yet I come back to it again and again,
A kind of fury makes me want to draw you out
From the dimness of the present
And set you sharply above me in a wheel of roses.
Then, going obviously to inhale their fragrance,
I touch the blade of you and cling upon it,
And only when the blood runs out across my fingers
Am I at all satisfied.
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:
兰叶春葳蕤, 桂华秋皎洁;
欣欣此生意, 自尔为佳节。
谁知林栖者, 闻风坐相悦。
草木有本心, 何求美人折?