| 英譯： |
Peach-Blossom Spring forever far from windblown dust: it's here,
hidden at Willow Market's south edge, and we've come for a visit.
At the gate, we can't imagine writing common bird on the doors,
and looking into his bamboo, we know everything about our host,
his house full of blue mountains towering up outside city walls,
a stream from eastern farms was flowing toward his western neighbor.
He's been writing books behind closed doors for months and years:
and the pines he planted are old, their bark dragon scales by now.
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