驿外断桥边,
寂寞开无主。
已是黄昏独自愁,
更著风和雨。
无意苦争春,
一任群芳妒。
零落成泥碾作尘,
只有香如故。
Ode to the Plum Blossom
—to the tune ofBu Suan Zi
Lu You
Outside the post-house, beside the broken bridge,
Alone, deserted, a flower blooms.
Saddened by her solitude in the falling dusk,
She is assailed by wind and rain.
Let other flowers be envious!
She craves not Spring for herself alone.
Her petals may be ground in the mud,
But her fragrance will endure.