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Confucius - The Wish Of An Unhappy Man
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Where the grounds are wet and low,
  There the trees of goat-peach grow,
  With their branches small and smooth,
  Glossy in their tender youth.
  Joy it were to me, O tree,
  Consciousness to want like thee.

  Where the grounds are wet and low,
  There the trees of goat-peach grow.
  Soft and fragrant are their flowers,
  Glossy from the vernal showers.
  Joy it were to me, O tree,
  Ties of home to want like thee.

  Where the grounds are wet and low,
  There the trees of goat-peach grow,
  What delicious fruits they bear,
  Glossy, soft, of beauty rare!
  Joy it were to me, O tree,
  Household cares to want like thee.
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