Classic Poem

On these sandy dikes I shake the world's dust from my clothes,
And leisurely stroll into my tumbleweed house
Through the rock-strewn gorge a near by stream goes trickling,
While distant mountains glint through the sparse trees
So hard to find words for their airy kingfisher blue,
So easy for a fisherman to live.
On these green shores I listen, grasping the creepers,
Spring and my heart have now become as one
The call of yellow birds among the oaks,
The cry of deer browsing on the duckweed
Sadly I recall those men of a hundred sorrows,
But delight in your joy at the baskets you received.
Joy and sorrow come and go in turn,
Now failure daunts us, now success makes us glad
Rather than this, I prefer to be free for ever
From all the world I choose Simplicity.