Vietnamese Cherry Blossom

The symbol of New Lunar Year in Vietnam.
The Calligrapher
Just as the pink cherry blossomed each year
The old scholar was sure to reappear
With China ink and red paper in scrolls
Amidst the swelling crowds that surged and rolled.

So many people paid him handsomely
For his talent that they admired dearly,
The flourishes of his accomplished hand
That wrought dragons and phoenixes on end.

Each passing year saw fewer people come.
Where were they all who paid him so handsome?
Now his paper had lost its crimson red,
His ink dried out in its sad forlorn bed.

At his old place sat the calligrapher
Amidst the hustling crowds without a stir.
Some yellow leaves fell dead on his paper,
And from above drizzle flew in a whir.

This year the cherry blooms light pink again;
The old scholar is found nowhere in vain.
Of all those people lived in days of yore
Where are they now, where'er forevermore?