Shipboard Song

White reeds grow on chilly sands;
Their remnant flowers wave old brooms.
A million houses of Yen-ching
Depend on you for their kindling.
Though unobtrusive and born of the lowest,
Your usefulness is well worth praise.
You outshine the peach and plum blossoms,
Each striving to appear prettiest of all.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Yüan Chüeh
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.