How many peonies in Jiangnan grow?
De'an takes the lead, Shezhou follows, you know.
In Jinling some old strains still remain,
Chiyang and Wu command the next domain.
Near the capital, the soil favors the breed,
In Echeng, grafting's done with careful heed.
They sift spring soil and mud around painted rails,
Stone-edged square beds are clean as swept trails.
The foremost wears a girdle of crimson red,
With greasy purple, tender yellow in a separate bed.
Platters hold blooms that greet the sun with pride,
Ten thousand jade leaves hide the spring breeze inside.
Precious leaves thread gold with silken line,
Brocade spots and wine halos cluster round the heart's design.
Gardenias and madders riot in rouge and powder bright,
Each pattern named, distinguished by depth of light.
Low trees still stand five or six feet high,
Flowers heavy, stiff branches lack strength to hold nigh.
Emerging from layered shade, they grow more fair to see,
One learns true color comes with years' maturity.
At dusk, fine snow adds clusters to the view,
Dew awakens fragrant souls, bathing them in cold anew.
Leaning on a pillar at dusk, eyes grow clearer still,
I feel night deepens, needing candlelight to fill.
By Luo River, fragrant groves should be more in score,
But cannot stop the rain washing bronze camels of yore.
Some still send wine with crispy cakes, a friend's delight,
Grass overruns the old garden, a helpless sight.
Do not sigh for the lingering spring's decay,
The hardest thing to keep is splendor's sway.
Look south, within a hundred years of flight,
How many families see their offspring in the light?