Weak wine suffices for a rite, why must one drink the finest brew?
A plain wife makes a home aright, why must one seek a beauty new?
In life, all desires men wish to gain, but who can keep them without loss or pain?
Hoarding wealth invites the thief to break in; rich flavors breed disease deep within.
Straw sandals and slow steps can serve as a carriage fine, no need for four steeds with golden bridles to shine.
A thatched eaves shelter from wind and rain, no need for painted beams' crimson stain.
A robe of coarse cloth and quilt keep one warm enough, no need for fox fur or brocade, such fancy stuff.
Vegetable soup and plain rice can fill the belly tight, no need for five tripods of fresh game, a lavish sight.
The full moon wanes, its deficit to pay; when things reach their peak, decay holds sway.
An exile can be minister or savage in the wild; a starving slave becomes a king, then is reviled.
When wishes are fulfilled, the gods grow wary; fortune and misfortune alternate, contrary.
I hear the orangutan, not unwise, scolds men with cries, yet caught when drunk, still for its sandals sighs.
The turtle's den is deep, yet deeper still it goes; caught by men at last, for greedy bait it chose.
Since ancient times, the wise see through the subtle sign, viewing external things as worn-out shoes, not fine.
Yu Ling declined a post, preferring to irrigate the field; Yu Kou refused the grain, choosing hunger's pain to wield.
Escape from glory, avoid disgrace—the two Shus went away; today right, yesterday wrong—Tao Yuanming came to stay.
I beg you, do not scorn the wine so weak and thin; from earthen jar or gourd cup, freely pour it in.
I beg you, do not scorn the wife so plain in sight; with thornwood hairpin and cloth robe, grow old together bright.
Heaven wide, earth vast, freedom is won; enough like this, why seek more under the sun?