Testimony of the Bamboo
I I am bamboo. I was born in the hills above Hangzhou, in the spring of 1742. I grew for three years — slow, steady, reaching for the sun. In the autumn of 1745, a man named Liu cut me down. He was a scholar, a poet, a man who had failed the imperial examinations and turned to carving instead. He carved me over forty days. He carved my body smooth and round. He carved seven finger holes and a...
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