Classic Poem

I'm a mad immortal between heaven and earth,
painting pictures, writing poems,
but never to sell for cash!
Pictures — in debt! Poems — unpaid taxes!
Busy until old age.
What a shame...
Friendships, feelings for people, all have led to nothing.

This has been the worst year of all:
waves pounding the thatched walls,
river flooding the fields.
I'd better pick up my brush and inkstone
and — say no more!
move my home on board a fishing boat.