Confucius

(551– 479 ( BC) / China)

Hospitality - Poem by Confucius

A few gourd leaves that waved about
Cut down and boiled;--the feast how spare!
But the good host his spirits takes,
Pours out a cup, and proves them rare.

A single rabbit on the mat,
Or baked, or roast:--how small the feast!
But the good host his spirits takes,
And fills the cup of every guest.

A single rabbit on the mat,
Roasted or broiled:--how poor the meal!
But the guests from the spirit vase
Fill their host's cup, and drink his weal.

A single rabbit on the mat,
Roasted or baked:--no feast we think!
But from the spirit vase they take,
Both host and guests, and joyous drink.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 18, 2010



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