Old age think good quiet 
Everything not concern heart 
Self attend without great plan 
Empty know return old forest 
Pine wind blow undo belt 
Hill moon light pluck qin 
Gentleman ask end open reason 
Fisherman song enter riverbank deep 


Now in old age, I know the value of silence, 
The world's affairs no longer stir my heart. 
Turning to myself, I have no greater plan, 
All I can do is return to the forest of old. 
Wind from the pine trees blows my sash undone, 
The moon shines through the hills; I pluck the qin. 
You ask me why the world must rise and fall, 
Fishermen sing on the steep banks of the river. 

Added: May 20 2005 | Viewed: 498 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Wang Wei
Poem: Replying to Subprefect Zhang

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