The white-haired teacher to the emperor
Rested long ago in the creased Ming landscape
The patterned cabinet wood
Still emits the faint fragrance of ancient
Rosemary
The grand tutor’s armchair
Set aside for so long
Still anxiously awaits
The uprightness and prestige of bygone da
How many times has the cabinet wood tree
In the garden shed its leaves
Playing at being cool, the postmoderns
Can’t but feel
Sitting upright for one’s whole life
Is awkward to the max
Is absurd to the max