A Poem From Zhu Xi

It is easy to be young,
but to get to become old-school is hard.

Seeing Time
like one inch of light in the darkness,
impossible to ignore.

By the still pond,
unborn Spring grass dreams;
yet on the front steps
the sound of leaves
fall like rain,
announcing Autumn's coming.


-Zhu Xi (who called himself the "Tea Immortal")