Hospitality Poem by Confucius
Hospitality
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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 8:24:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The translation of this is a little difficult to understand, is the message that what little there is, that the real bounty is sharing with the company of others? , still an interesting attempt.