Classic Poem

Mulberries at the roadside break into bud,
The eggs of the east neighbor's silkworms are just hatching.
A brown calf on the smooth, grassy slope gives a contented low,
A sprinkling of dusky crows dot the chill wood in the slanting sun.

Hills far and near,
Footpaths crisscrossed between the fields,
And a wineshop with its blue pennon fluttering.
Spring is here with the shepherd's purse at the brookside,
While peach and plum in town are still assailed by wind and rain.