In general, the world is but a lodging place,
External things come and lodge within this space.
The host, to you, originally had no mind,
Who made you come, and who makes you leave behind?
When you came, you added nothing to my joy,
When you go, my talk and laughter don't cloy.
Only the mountain sage and the stream old man,
With idle clouds in the room, moon on the boat's span.
Since ancient times, we've wasted time in vain,
Losing brings regret, gaining brings a strain.
Not taking the level road, but wind and wave,
Or falling into traps, or nets that enslave.
Some gnaw their arms, abandoning their kin;
Some go to Chu, then to Qin again.
Sweeping at noble gates—is it bitter toil?
Weeping in hempen clothes—grieved by lowly soil.
Who flaunts and sells, presenting a letter?
Who begs a loan, keeping the carriage better?
Who enters the pass and discards the silk tally?
Who thinks of whipping the horse to speed the valley?
More so, two recluses of Sui dynasty,
Who sought gold and crimson in woods, ironically.
Those walking backwards are even more deplorable,
At that time they wished to cook themselves, horrible.
But Yang Xiong's nature was tranquil and plain,
Who needs a name to learn from Wei Xian?
Piling firewood—hateful Ji's remark,
Not knowing true style follows nature's spark.
Who is the one that dwells in nature's way?
To name a pavilion 'Lodge' in such a display.
Vulgar men worry about loss and gain,
How can they know the serene and wise, heart plain?
The wise see through without any screen,
The serene are calm, without any routine.
No screen, no routine, no striving or care,
The master within is nature and sincerity there.
Ascend this pavilion, behold this name,
All human affairs can be leveled, with no blame.