Recently, a T'ang murder graced these pages. Now, for balance, a lovely poem by a T'ang master. I like this, though of course I have no idea how good the translation is at catching the essential essence of the poetry. This is Zhang Jiuling's Orchid and Orange:
Here, south of the Yangtzi, grows a red orange tree.
All winter long its leaves are green,
Not because of a warmer soil,
But because its nature is used to the cold.
Though it might serve your honourable guests,
You leave it here, far below mountain and river.
Circumstance governs destiny.
Cause and effect are an infinite cycle.
You plant your peach trees and your plums,
You forget the shade from this other tree.