A Lowly Flower

A flowering grass I rise

From the side of a far-spread lake,

Whose waters lave and fertilize,

And all my thirsty tissues slake.

The dews of Spring with gentle power

Evolve my glossy emerald leaves;

The colours of my fragrant flower

The rime of early Autumn weaves.

And yet in trembling fear I grow,

Lest root and stem should be uptorn

By sudden storm or rushing flow,

And leave me helpless and forlorn.

So here contented will I lie,

Although a plant of humble birth;

Nor try to soar to realms on high

Above the confines of the earth.

For never yet has living soul

By strength or wisdom changed his fate;

All things are under heaven’s control,

Who allocates to each his state.

Bay Sie T’iao