"Unrewarded, my will to serve the State; At my closed door autumn grasses grow. What could I do to ease a rustic heart? I planted bamboos, more than a hundred shoots. When I see their beauty, as they grow by the stream-side, I feel again as though I lived in the hills, And many a time on public holidays Round their railing I walk till night comes. Do not say that their roots are still weak, Do not say that their shade is still small; Already I feel that both in garden and house Day by day a fresher air moves. But most I love, lying near the window-side, To hear in their branches the sound of the autumn-wind."