The old fire's turbid flow won't cease,
No refuge from this scorching heat.
I drive my cart to the clear creek's peace,
To wash my cap-strings, rest my feet.
A little boat with no fixed course,
I loose the rope and let it drift.
Where three streams meet, I ply the oar,
In empty brightness, thoughts uplift.
I pluck wild fruits, so fresh and sweet,
And cast a fragrant bait to fish.
From jade tubes pours the vintage wine,
Fresh water chestnuts grace the dish.
Host and guest exchange a toast or two,
Each follows his own taste, hot or cold.
Soon the moon wheel climbs the sky,
Mist and water merge in emerald.
The clear breeze is a welcome friend,
Its generous gift worth fortunes gold.
Dew‑lit leaves gleam with radiant light,
Water‑flowers charm with beauty bold.
I long to pat the immortal's shoulder,
Or hold the river‑goddess's train.
Though no pipe or string music sounds,
All worldly falsehood here is slain.
From a neighbor boat a clear lute rings,
Stirring the sleeping dragon's dream.
Take it as cicada‑frog song,
Enough to deepen the serene.
Not only for my homeland's joy,
But where the heart and scene convene.
A busy official could not do this,
Hard for the worldly to conceive.
Not yet forty, my hair turns grey,
My teeth already start to leave.
The past cannot be called back again,
The future offers no reprieve.
Wealth and honor come not by chance,
The years flow on, no time to grieve.
In this humble and needy state,
Such joy is more than I'd believe.
The crane is long, the duckling short,
Heaven's work is but a child's play.
Fame and merit are ants' dreams,
Our life a drifting weed's stay.
How many fine meetings in a hundred years?
No leisure to count glory or decay.
Even if posthumous fame awaits,
It won't exchange for tonight's sway.
Singing loud, unaware of dawn,
I sit and watch the slanting Milky Way.
The banished immortal's brocade boat,
Few successors have walked that way.
Old Su's Red Cliff excursion,
First unveiled heaven's mystery.
Two hundred years after him,
I silently grasp this glee.
I shall swear to keep this covenant,
Not let it fade carelessly.
Chanting these three hundred words,
To share with comrades who agree.