Classic Poem

Idle … nothing to do
Abandoned in the wilds, with time to spare
Rivers and clouds … the moon breaks through
Unmoored the boat drifts here and there
In Xiaoliang Temple raising the lute strain,
On Youliang Tower humming an air
The bamboo cluster is a friend of mine,
The rock a comrade true;
Swallows and sparrows I disdain,
Silver and gold unvalued shine,
But my cup is full of green spring wine!
Facing the moon I touch the lute again;
The pool wells clear and clean about the stair;
I draw my pin and slash ripples in twain,
Then, the book finished, on the couch I drowsily recline
Rising, half drunk, to comb my hair.