I Wouldn't Marry in the Spring Breeze Then, Yet Somehow the Autumn Wind Misled Me

Willows fringe the pond, mandarin ducks part at the inlet. Green duckweed spreads until it blocks the lotus boat’s path. No bees or butterflies ever seek its hidden fragrance; its red petals fall away, leaving a bitter heart. The setting sun faces the rising tide, clouds drift with the rain. Clinging to the poet, it seems to whisper. Back then, it refused to marry the spring breeze; now, through no fault of its own, it has been forsaken by the autumn wind.”