Yesterday I saw trees by the river's edge,
Wrecked and broken beyond belief,
Only two or three trunks left standing,
Scarred by blades of a thousand axes.
Frost strips the yellowing leaves,
River waves pluck at the withered roots.
This is a way the living must fare.
Why curse at Heaven and Earth?
Han-shan, Cold Mountain, translated by Burton Watson (London: Jonathan Cape, 1962), p.53.
