The Old Scholar

When plum blossom comes every year
The old scholar will then appear
On crowded roads, he’s displaying
Large red paper and Chinese ink
So numerous are the compliments
From customers for his talents
“Lively strokes, vigorous motions:
Dancing phoenix, soaring dragons!”
As years have passed, there’s less demand
Where are they all, his all clients?
Distressed paper has faded colour
Ink stone dried out from feeling sore
The old scholar’s always on site
Thus, unnoticed by passers-by
Dead leaves have lounged onto paper
Then comes the mist drizzling over
As plum blossom has come so far
No longer seen the old scholar
Oh souls of passed millennia!
Where have you gone throughout eras?

Tien Lac Quan