Gone are the guests from the Grand Room
Flower petals flutter in my little garden
They float down and gather on the crooked path
They shimmer and dance upon the setting sun
Oh how can I bear to sweep them away?
My sad eyes will never see them return
Sweet fragrance a memory like the end of spring
All that remains are tear stains on my robe
by Chinese Poet Li Shang-yin, AD 813–858