A brief respite from duties at the county lodge,
I drive my carriage westward beyond the city wall.
How lovely, the lingering charm of hills and streams,
And the rustling sound of pines and cypresses tall.
After snow, spring stirs with a gentle breath,
Fresh green emerges in hollows where waters flow.
On and on I journey to the verdant woods,
Where my aging eyes regain a brighter glow.
The host delights in the arrival of a guest,
Hurrying out, shoes askew, to welcome me with cheer.
His secluded dwelling lies in a distant trace,
Where vigorous brush and poetic voice ring clear.
Looking back on years of separation now,
A thousand miles swayed the heart's banner to and fro.
Meeting again, yet soon to part once more,
This feeling of unrest still will not let go.
Better to visit his studio's quiet bower,
Where cups of wine are poured for all around.
Like the free-spirited Poet of Pengze,
Or the unyielding Ruan Ji with his profound.
Drawing a sword, three feet of steel gleams bright,
Discussing essays, driving spirits with our might.
Green fields stretch fair beyond the balustrade,
A mountain temple by linked rooftops is arrayed.
From stone crevices, hidden springs overflow,
Beneath our feet, light clouds begin to grow.
I shamefully join this poetic alliance,
And in the game of Go, with you I vie.
Chanting poems, valley birds respond in tune,
Ranked torches startle forest crows on high.
Pure joy has not yet reached its full extent,
Yet lines of verse have suddenly been penned.
Sitting in a circle, ten brows shine bright,
Raising cups, we toast to three heroes, friend.
Drunken ink splashes over every wall,
Returning dreams hold lingering clarity's thrall.
I feel ashamed amidst this gathering's grace,
While you seek to renew our former pledge's place.
Official duties now bind and confine me,
The autumn wind shall speed your journey free.