<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 出府歸吾廬>
<Format: 五言古詩>
<Year: 1981>
<BookName: Tu Fu -A New Translation>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: Leaving Office, Returning to My Hut>
<BookPage: 319-320>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
出府歸吾廬，靜然安且逸。更無客干謁，時有僧問疾。家僮十餘人，櫪馬三四匹。慵發經旬臥，興來連日出。出遊愛何處，嵩碧伊瑟瑟。況有清和天，正當疎散日。身閑自爲貴，何必居榮秩。心足即非貧，豈唯金滿室。吾觀權勢者，苦以身徇物。炙手外炎炎，履冰中慄慄。朝飢口忘味，夕惕心憂失。但有富貴名，而無富貴實。


<End Poem>
<Translation>
I leave my office, return to my hut,
Enjoy quiet, tranquility and ease.
No guest visits me, though occasionally a priest
Courteously inquires about my illness.
I have over ten servants, three or four horses.
When I feel indolent, I lie ten days in bed,
But when something exciting occurs
I'm out for days on end.
Where do I love to enjoy myself?
Where the Sung Mountains rise completely green.
Just right to be carefree on these clear, warm days
With body at ease—that's eminence!
Who needs glory or rank?
When satisfied at heart, no one is poor.
Why merely cram a room with gold?
I see that men in power surrendering to possessions
Have harassed bodies, hands afire, heat enveloping them,
Atremble as if stepping on thin ice,
Mornings so starved for food that they forget its flavor,
Evenings bedeviled by fear of loss.
Wealth and preeminent fame are not reality!
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
I leave my office, return to my hut,
Enjoy quiet, tranquility and ease.
No guest visits me, 
Though occasionally a priest courteously inquires about my illness.
I have over ten servants, 
three or four horses.
When I feel indolent, I lie ten days in bed,
But when something exciting occurs I'm out for days on end.
Where do I love to enjoy myself?
Where the Sung Mountains rise completely green.
On these clear, warm days
Just right to be carefree. 
With body at ease—that's eminence!
Who needs glory or rank?
When satisfied at heart, no one is poor.
Why merely cram a room with gold?
I see that men in power 
Surrendering to possessions have harassed bodies, 
Hands afire, heat enveloping them,
Atremble as if stepping on thin ice,
Mornings so starved for food that they forget its flavor,
Evenings bedeviled by fear of loss.
Wealth and preeminent fame 
are not reality!
<End Formatted Translation>