Vast, vast my song—
What are heaven, earth, and all things to me?
When employed, I loosen my belt and feast on the state's bounty;
When not, I pillow my head and return to the mountain's embrace.
Have you not seen the Wei River fisherman with his bamboo rod,
Or the old farmer of Shen's fields with his few acres of grain?
In joy, I rise to bring rain like Shang's minister;
In anger, I later wield the spear of King Zhou.
Have you not seen Ziling resting his foot on the emperor's belly—
The emperor dared not move, let alone rebuke?
Heaven itself is busy and pressing,
Stars and planets rub against each other.
Pitiful the foolish ministers at court,
Inviting me to pass by first.
Vast, vast my song—
What are heaven, earth, and all things to me?
Qu Yuan died in vain in the Miluo River;
Bo Yi and Shu Qi pointlessly lay on the western hills.
A true man, outstanding, cannot be fettered;
What use is this body to wear itself out?
I observe the sages' hearts—
Their joy comes from within, nothing else.
If the common people are fated to be poor,
My way becomes a stumbling waste.
I must simply mourn for all under heaven;
Why resent and grieve over hills and valleys?
Vast, vast my song—
What are heaven, earth, and all things to me?
Where are the jade halls and golden horses?
Cloudy mountains and stone chambers rise lofty and steep.
Bowing my head to plow, though the land is scant;
Raising my face with a long laugh—how vast the sky!
I beg you, make me drunk with a dipper of wine,
My face aglow with spring breeze's warmth.