My new province is a land of bamboo-groves: br Their shoots in spring fill the valleys and hills. br The mountain woodman cuts an armful of them br And brings them down to sell at the early market. br Things are cheap in proportion as they are common; br For two farthings, I buy a whole bundle. br I put the shoots in a great earthen pot br And heat them up along with boiling rice. br The purple nodules broken – like an old brocade; br The white skin opened – like new pearls. br Now every day I eat them recklessly; br For a long time I have not touched meat.