Classic Poem

The governor of Huaiyang, arm and leg to the ruler,
served his term from a bed of ease
And this post of mine, far in the southern hills?
Hardly different from a hermit's life!
Incessant rains — busy season for farmers:
straw hats gather in fallow fields to the east.
Daytime my state chambers are always closed,
few law suits to hear on the grass-grown terrace
Soft mats refresh me in the summer rooms,
light fans stir a cooling breeze
Tasty bream I am urged to try,
helping myself to the best strained wine
Summer plums — crimson fruit chilled in water;
autumn lotus root — tender threads to pluck;
but our happy days, when will they come?
Nightly I meet you in my dreams.
I sit whistling while time piles up,
a year already since I came here to govern;
I could never do it with strings and song —
patting the armrest, I chuckle to myself in scorn.