Classic Poem

Back from three years governing a district:
what I've acquired is no hoard of gold and silks,
but two pieces of stone from T'ien-chu
and a pair of Hua-t'ing cranes.
The latter must be watered and fed fine grain,
the former wrapped gently in cushions and matting.
I'm well aware of how much they'll cost me,
but things dear to the heart — what can you do?
From faraway walls of Hangchow
both brought to Lo-yang's byways,
the stones, lowered from their pole, breathing clouds,
the cranes, out of their cage, stretching snowy pennons.
Such noble forms can hardly mingle with the mob;
highborn in nature, they must have fit surroundings.
So I sought a neighborhood free of dust,
looked for a house with water on the grounds.
In the southeast sector I found a quiet spot,
ancient trees, the blue of cold springs,
a pondside rich in bamboo shade,
in front of the gate, little sign of people passing.
Not yet in receipt of funds from my new post,
I sold a pair of carriage horses in order to buy it.
After all, I'm not planning for myself alone —
I've my cranes and stones to think of!