Ripe, the plums fall from the bough; <br />Only seven-tenths left there now! <br />Ye whose hearts on me are set, <br />Now the time is fortunate! <br /> <br />Ripe, the plums fall from the bough; <br />Only three-tenths left there now! <br />Ye who wish my love to gain, <br />Will not now apply in vain! <br /> <br />No more plums upon the bough! <br />All are in my basket now! <br />Ye who me with ardor seek, <br />Need the word but freely speak!<br /><br />Confucius<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anxiety-of-a-young-lady-to-get-married/
