Plum Flower
My Friend, there is a nation who feels proud of you. Your unyielding nature makes you look even emaciated. But lanky is not your name. You are not afraid of the cold winter, but you are the first to bloom in spring. The first gentlemen standing on the land dancing fearlessly with spring and a smiling gentleman, I called.
Chrysanthemum
My Friend, you do not mind lying next to the grave, and you do not mind associating with strangers soaking up in holy bath. But you mind only if fall brings you the beauty of grief or sorrows. With your haughty attitude in autumn, I do not ask for much. As maple leaves died out all over the floor just for your tender face.
Orchids, Bamboo and Rock, before 1740, by Zheng Xie (1693—1765). Hanging scroll, ink on paper. The Palace Museum, Beijing. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)









