For this scene, I've begged Buddha, 500 years nonstopping,
For the fate we can be interweaving.
Buddha hence changes me into a tree,
Standing by a road you'll be passing,
Blossoming, discreetly, under the sun
Every flower is my previous life's yearning.
When you trek near, listen carefully:
The trembling leaves are my longing passion.
But you pass, you pass carelessly, Leave,
Behind you, the tree that's shedding.
Dear, the shedding are not petals at all,
But my heart, my withered heart, crying!
About the Writer:
Hsi Muren (Xi Murong) was born in 1943 in Sichuan Province but was raised in Taiwan. She taught art for many years and is famous for her paintings of lotus flowers. Of Mongolian descent, she travels to Mongolia every summer and often writes and lectures on Mongolian culture. She has retired to Tamsui, where she lives with her husband.