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Confucius - The Love Of The People For The Duke Of Shaou
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O fell not that sweet pear-tree!
    See how its branches spread.
      Spoil not its shade,
      For Shaou`s chief laid
    Beneath it his weary head.

  O clip not that sweet pear-tree!
    Each twig and leaflet spare.
      `Tis sacred now,
      Since the lord of Shaou,
    When weary, rested him there.

  O touch not that sweet pear-tree!
    Bend not a twig of it now.
      There long ago,
      As the stories show,
    Oft halted the chief of Shaou.
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