As old age approaches

As old age approaches
my faculties grow numb;
I do things alone,
people think I'm strange!
The frightened fish
is saddened by the net,
the tired bird
cannot find a roost.
My wife and children
are tired of my poems,
my clothing lets through
the chill of ice and snow.
Selling my writings,
still a traveler through life,
have I betrayed my pledge
to become a hermit
at Deer Gate Mountain?
Author of original: 
Y├╝n Shou-p'ing
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