Quotes About Nature

Passing One Night in an Old Woman's Hut at the Foot of Mount Five Pines I lodge under the five pine trees, Lonely, I feel not quite at ease. Peasants work hard in autumn old; Husking rice at night, the maid's cold. Wilce rice is offered on her knees; The plate in moonlight seems to freeze. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. Do I deserve the hard-earned food?

CROWS CALLING AT NIGHT Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows roosting near. Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs. In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl. Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words. She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man. She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.

SITTING ALONE ON JINGTING SHAN HILL A flock of birds is flying high in the distance, A lonely cloud drifts idly on its own. We gaze at each other, neither growing tired, There is only Jingting Shan.

QUESTION AND ANSWER ON THE MOUNTAIN You ask for what reason I stay on the green mountain, I smile, but do not answer, my heart is at leisure. Peach blossom is carried far off by flowing water, Apart, I have heaven and earth in the human world.

LAO LAO TANG PAVILION What place under heaven most hurts the heart? Laolao Ting, for seeing visitors off. The spring wind knows how bitter it is to part, The willow twig will never again be green.

SEEING OFF A FRIEND Green hills above the northern wall, White water winding east of the city. On this spot our single act of parting, The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li. Drifting clouds echo the traveller's thoughts, The setting sun reflects my old friend's feelings. You wave your hand and set off from this place, Your horse whinnies as it leaves.

VIEWING HEAVEN'S GATE MOUNTAINS The River Chu cuts through the middle of heaven's gate, The green water flowing east reaches here then swirls. On either bank the blue hills face towards each other, The flatness of a lonely sail comes from by of the sun.

VISITING THE TAOIST PRIEST DAI TIANSHAN, BUT NOT FINDING HIM A dog's bark amid the water's sound, Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain. Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer, And at the stream I hear no noonday bell. Wild bamboo divides the green mist, A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak. No-one knows the place to which he's gone, Sadly, I lean on two or three pines.

SENT TO DU FU BELOW SHAQUI CITY What is it that I've come to now? High before me: Shaqiu city. Beside the city, ancient trees; The sunset joins the autumn sounds. The Lu wine cannot make me drunk, Qi's songs cannot restore my feelings. My thoughts of you are like the Wen's waters, Mightily sent on their southern journey.

SEEING OFF MENF HAORAN FOR GUANLING AT YELLOW CRANE TOWER My old friend's said goodbye to the west, here at Yellow Crane Tower, In the third month's cloud of willow blossoms, he's going down to Yangzhou. The lonely sail is a distant shadow, on the edge of a blue emptiness, All I see is the Yangtze River flow to the far horizon.

Das Firmament blaut ewig und die Erde Wird lange fest stehen und aufblühn im Lenz. Du aber, Mensch, wie lange lebst denn du?

I was born on a storm-swept rock and hate the soft growth of sun-baked lands where there is no frost in men's bones.

But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?

A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.

Around us the night creatures have their say. We are surrounded by a symphony of crickets and frogs. Neither of us feels the need to speak, and I suppose that is one of the qualities I find comforting in Kartik. We can be alone together.

You can't believe how bleeding scary the sea is! There's, like, whales and storms and shit! They don't bloody tell you that!

The wind picks up. It sends leaves scurrying for cover until a softer breeze blows through, settling them down again as if to say, Shhh, there, there, it's all right. One leaf still dances in the air. It spins higher and higher, defying gravity and logic, stretching for something just out of reach. It shall have to fall, of course. Eventually. But for now, I hold my breath, willing it to keep going, taking comfort in its struggle.

But you've changed,' I whisper. 'Haven't you?' It is the scorpian's nature to sting. Just because he has no opportunity doesn't mean that he cannot.

Our mouths and bodies speak for us in a new language as the trees shake loose a rain of petals that stick to our slickness like skins we will wear forever. And just like that, I am changed.

Tonight, she went into the woods, and I fear she shall live in the woods of my soul for the rest of my days.

Without further warning, the sky opens up and cries.

No? Part girl, part wolf? Do they lick their butter knives?

Sometimes when the wind blows through the leaves, it sounds like your name. It's like a sigh then. The most beautiful sound I ever heard. A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer – Gem-ma, Gem-ma – and then the leaves trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.

He's attracted to the smell of manure, Felicity says. You might wallow in the stables to bring out the full flower of his love.