Treading on Grass
On winding pool with willows dim,
At narrow strait the lovebirds swim.
Green duckweeds float,
Barring the way of lotus-picking boat.
Nor butterflies nor bees
Love fragrance from the withered trees.
When her red petals fall apart,
The lotus bloom’s bitter at heart.
The setting sun greets rising tide,
The floating clouds bring rain.
The swaying lotus seems to confide
Her sorrow to the poet in vain.
Then she would not be wed to vernal breeze.
What could she do now autumn drives away wild geese?
The poet describes the lotus bloom and compares its bitter heart to his own.