| 英譯： |
HORSES' hoof-prints have been brushed away,
Back from the office, I must shut the gates myself.
In the long saucepan, River rice is cooking,
On little trees the jujubes flower in spring.
Up on the wall I hang my lotus-sceptre,
Inspect my pointed turban by the screen.
I sent my dog to carry a letter to Lo,
The crane fell sick, regretting its wanderings in Ch'in.
The tea is sealed away in earthen jars,
My mountain wine locked up with the bamboo stumps.
Nothing so fine as moonlight on a boat...
But who is punting on that cloud-filled stream?
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