Lillian’s homework was to hand in a piece of her writing. She asked me to print this
the fields are chill the sparse rain has stopped
the colors of spring teem on every side
with leaping fish the blue pond is full
with singing thrushes the green boughs droop
the flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks
the mountain grasses are bent level at the waist
by the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
blown by the wind slowly scatters away
It seemed like a very nice poem, but not one that she could have written. Turns out it was by acclaimed Chinese poet Li Bai.
We talked about how its not OK to hand in somebody else’s work as if it was your own.
The next morning, before school, she wrote:
The wind blows.
The wind blows,
The river flows,
The trees rustle,
And the birds sing.
Which is also very nice.