Beyond the somke and dust
of Brocade City
sits our little river village
eight or nine houses
lotus leaves float
small and round
blossoming wheat stalks
bend toward the ground
now I have a house
in which I can grow old
a farmer who feels remote
from all that happens in the capital
though I wish I could be like Ge Hong
that man of ancient days
who held an office but still went out
in search of life's elixir!