Green are the garden sunflowers wet with dew,
Awaiting the sun who's to rise anew.
The spring benign is lavishing her favour
On all things, which are glowing with splendour.
In their lush growth there's still the fear
That they will wither when autumn comes near.
All the rivers eastward to the seas flow,
When have the waters ever return'd, though?
One who in his youth does not take great pains,
When old, will but regret and grieve in vain.

--- Han dynasty