| 英譯： |
The clouds run over the broad waves of the Northern Pond;
The cottage shelters us from the autumn wind around.
Being fond of the islet the lone crane would not fly;
The wizened lotuses face up to the blue sky.
Among the thorns the peasants pluck water caltrops;
And for the lotus roots their feet in the mud grope.
In pairs they oar the boat with the aquatic plants;
And from the path they come with golden plates in hands.
The luxuriant grasses are bespangled with dews;
From the setting sun the flags borrow the ruby hues.
While sending down the wine to the ferry officials,
You also bestow clothes upon the fishers.
The chrysanthemums are smililng in this alien land;
The same phoenix trees in my native place now stand.
The falling leaves remind me of the old hills and rills;
Long you stay here only for putting down the kills.
Before the time when the city gates are closed,
The last toast of the dinner has been proposed.
As a Censor, how much I have done I know hardly,
And you entertain my humble self so heartily!
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