胥泽民竹亭

The breath of war still lingers round the three domains;

The dust of northern horsemen dims a hundred lands.

The madman of Chu sang of phoenix and then fled;

The sleeping dragon of Shu lay coiled in his retreat.

Dew-drenched mosses shroud the stone steps by the pines;

Spring vines drape like silk over the cottage eaves.

I call the lad to open up the grove of jade bamboo;

I build this chamber to await the azure arch above.

The emerald stream is like a sash of silk unfurled;

The distant hills rise up like coils of dark hair.

The lush woods stretch as far as the eye can see;

Nature's lavishness is laid bare, withholding naught.

In the river's flow, I know the joy of fish;

In the forest's calm, I watch the birds return.

Drunk, I chant and call for wine and company;

My free thoughts wander to the realms of men.

Like the roc of the North Sea riding the wind's back;

Like the southern hills bathed in dew, distinct and clear.

Bows and banners reach beneath the forest shade;

Saddled horses wait idle by the gate.