Classic Poem

Have you not seen them
Bearing snow to block up a well,
spending their strength in vain,
Or steaming pebbles to be their rice—
How shall they ever eat it?
For a lifetime a faithful heart
has been exhausted for others,
And those who recognized it were worse
than those who recognized it not
From the winter green of trees there hangs
the transempyrean vine,
At the year's close its flowers wither,
but the tree does not.
Each of every living thing
has its own root, its nature;
The planted grain will never grow
the sprouts of beans.
Hard traveling, traveling hard,
Where are there level roads?
Whoever's heart is untroubled
must be noble and rich,
As now I look on you,
the well-being in your face.