| 英譯： |
Lo-yang has a befuddled old man
who can't distinguish
black and white.
He seems wild and ill-behaved
but he's no fool
in planning for himself.
Look at the food on his plate,
neither fine nor coarse;
look at the clothes on his body,
neither too much nor too little.
Just the right time for the Heavens,
not cold and not hot.
One's body vapors harmonized,
not hungry, not thirsty.
Idly taking out the wine jug
tipsily facing someone's house to rest.
Rough food,
little cooked fish,
sleeping and grasping the coverlets.
Taking the lute,
Jung Ch'i delights;
Fixing the hoe,
Liu Ling flourishes.
Opening my eyes
to see the green mountains,
letting my head
grow its white hairs.
Not knowing
how many more years
I have in the world,
from now to the end
day and night
I'll be idle
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