| 英譯： |
A muddy ditch filled with dirty water,
And on the water leaves, disk on disk.
The moment I saw them I heaved a long sigh,
For I knew they were lotus brought from the Eastern Brook.
Up from below comes green slime to foul them;
Never again will they smell fresh and sweet.
Down from above drops red dust to soil them;
Never again will their colour be clear and bright.
It is not only things whose nature is thus;
In human matters it also must be so.
It is better for a man to be utterly east away
Than torn from his roots and put where he is not in place.
You in the days when you grew in the Eastern Brook—
Your flowers and leaves bewitched the blue stream.
Now, wrested from the scene to which you belong,
In front of a government building you wilt and pine.
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