Clouds drifting the whole day;
a traveler traveling who never arrives.
Three nights you have been in my dreams;
as your friend, I knew your mind.
You say your return is always harrowing;
your coming, a hard coming;
Rivers, lakes, so many waves;
in your boat you fear overturning.
Going out the door, you scratch your white head
as if the purpose of your whole life was ruined,
The rich and high positioned fill the Capital,
while you, alone, are careworn and dejected.
Who says the net of heaven is cast wide?
Growing older, you only grow more preyed upon.
One thousand autumns, ten thousand years of fame,
are nothing after death.
