舊廬述懷
Reflections on My Old Hut
結屋愛村溪，地僻罕人到。遠樹生微煙，涼風驚晚噪。晨起柴門開，苔花應不掃。蒼然一笠寒，雲霞寄嘯傲。住茲十餘年，任彼冷與燠。閭井日已荒，知交日已耗。婆娑水石間，曲淡誰能好？芙蕖香紛披，深篁厲清操。感慨百年內，虛名何足道？
I built my hut beside a village stream I love, a secluded spot where few people ever come. Distant trees give rise to faint smoke; cool winds startle the evening birdsong. Rising at dawn, I open the brushwood gate— the moss flowers are best left unswept. In the deepening dusk, a single straw hat feels cold; among clouds and rosy mist I lodge my proud whistling. I have lived here more than ten years, letting things be cold or warm as they will. The lanes and hamlets grow ever more desolate; friends and companions dwindle day by day. I linger among the waters and stones, my tune so plain—who could appreciate it? Lotus blossoms scatter their fragrance all around; deep bamboo groves sharpen a pure integrity. Sighing over the span of a hundred years— what is a hollow name worth speaking of?