Wind rustling, rain drizzling, outside Changzhou Park, my desolate dwelling deep.
Outside the gate, flowing water spreads wide; by river, ancient trees moan bleak and dense.
Vast, no bird shadow; silent, no human sound.
Sitting upright, dragging sorrow, ten thousand feelings crowd the heart.
Gusu's blue tiles, a hundred thousand households, among them towers and song and dance.
Usually leaning on moon, again sleeping among flowers, not to speak of slanting wind and fine rain.
They likely don't know what creation of heaven and earth is, nor know what master of glory and shame is.
My granary always full is peace; my joy not extreme is heaven's decree.
Why worry the world has great villains? Four borders' alarm clappers often clang.
Government troops harass people worse than bandits; generals fear death, only guard walls.
Again why worry court suffers slackness, eunuchs turn rampant?
Li Ying forming faction met disaster; Dou Wu's loyal plan again not carried out.
Again why worry civil officials all shelved high, culture and education from today decline?
If still none come slightly forward, taking brush to end, all share same evil.
Alas, people in Wu city, none exchange a word with me.
Weeds fill the path, dust covers the couch; alone, anxious, how vexing.
Though small perhaps can plan big; the widow's worry history still records.
Moreover I long cherish a man's ambition, now drifting by the vast sea's shore.
Sometimes startled by events, sigh again, because of wind, because of rain, more haggard.
Only idly lay the qin across my knees, grievances and regrets briefly entrusted.
Bo Ya on sea felt the vast deep; how like today's wind and rain thoughts.