Poem IV

Often have I wandered among hills and streams,
And heedlessly traversed woods and plains.
Once I took with me my sons and nephews
To pick our way through the wild hazels.
From mounds to fields as we tarried,
We came upon traces of desolate homesteads.
Marks were seen of old wells and kitchens,
And the mulberry and bamboo, cut and torn.

"Woodman there, let me ask you,
What has happened to these dwellers of old?"
"They are dead and gone," said he;
"And once dead, they leave no record behind."

Generations change in court and town;
So goes the saying, striking and true.
Life fades like a passing show,
It all ends but in nothingness.