Wayside Roses
Guo Moruo

Rambling through a pine forest early in the morning, I came across abunch of forsaken roses lying by the shady wayside. They were still fresh incolour. One was purplish-red, another pink, still another a sickly ivory-yellowslightly tinged with blood-red.

I picked them up in my hand.

The numerous fine dewdrops on the fresh green leaves clearly showedthat the roses had just been cast away the previous night.

Were they pitiful maidens deflowered by fickle men? Or were theyunlucky young men fooled by frivolous women?

Last night’s whispers of love; this morning’s drops of cold dew…

I brought the roses home and tried to find a flower vase to keepthem in.

Flower vase I had none, but I did find in a nook of my room an emptyearthen wine bottle with its neck broken.

--O dear roses, though unable to treat you to spring wine, I couldoffer you limpid spring water and my sincere pure heart. Wouldn’t it be betterfor you to wither away in solitude in this broken earthen wine bottle than tolie abandoned by the roadside and be trodden down upon?