The grass does not refuse
To flourish in the spring wind;
The leaves are not angry
At falling through the autumn sky.
Who with whip or spur
Can urge the feet of Time?
The things of the world flourish and decay,
Each at its own hour.
cited: The Poet Li Po (AD 701- 762) Trans: A Waley, Project Gutenberg
This week’s lens-artists photo challenge is sponsored by Patti.