Like a flower, but not a flower br No one cares when it falls br And lies discarded at the roadside br But though br Unmoved, I think about br The tangle of wounded tendrils br Lovely eyes full of sleep br About to open,yet br Still in dreams, following the wind ten thousand miles br In search of love br Startled, time and again, by the oriole's cry br br Do not pity the flower that flies off br Grieve for the western garden br Its fallen red already beyond mending -- br Now, after morning rain br What's left? br A pond full of broken duckweed br If the three parts of spring br Two turn to dust br One to flowing water br Look -- br These are not catkins br But drop after drop of parted lover's tearsbr br Su Tung-pobr br