Poems of Meng Jiao
Watching the tree-planting
Tree-planting always waits on spring.
Spring arrives but doesn't stay for long.
You see, but for a moment, these blossoms.
When they go, who is spared from sadness?
Our purposes are already scattered.
The planting, again, goes on and on.
Why are these busybodies buying themselves
So much trouble for nothing?
While the sight of spring tree-planting may have inspired Meng Jiao to write this poem, it clearly has nothing to do with trees or blossoms.