Classic Poem

Digging and building tire men out,
still, out in the country you have found nature's way.
Leisurely you came outside the northern wall
to study living beside the western stream.
The Tao is great, the hermit's life is hard;
the place remote, yet many speak of it.
And so I come for an unexpected visit,
rowing into this paradise of reeds.
The setting sun floats on distant trees;
the mulberries issue a delicate mist.
Now the way turns, the stream-path is lost,
a flock of wild ducks guides my boat.
Fragrance near — I smell chestnut and lotus;
lying down, enter where flowers are fresh.
Human voices come from weeping willows:
along the winding shore, fish-gaffs everywhere.
You take my hand, look at me and smile,
" This place is my western field!
I often have scholars like you, Sir, call
and together we linger, taking joy in nature.
Sit on the grass — we'll pour a jug of wine
and bring happiness to our remaining years. "