The Book of Odes, by L. Cranmer-Byng, , at sacred-texts.com
The marshland holds the carambola tree;
Soft and pliant its branches be.
With its careless beauty and tender sheen,
The life of a tree is the life for me.
The marshland rears the carambola tree;
All purple and red its blossoms be.
In careless beauty and tender sheen,
Would I were childless and bland like thee.
The marshland loves the carambola tree;
Soft and sweet are the fruits I see.
Clothed with beauty and sunlit sheen,
The rateless and roofless life for me.