On First Arriving at Huang-chou by Su Tung-p’o

Funny–I never could keep my mouth shut;
it gets worse the older I grow.
The long river loops the town–fish must be tasty;
good bamboo lines the hills–smell the fragrant shoots!
An exile, why mind being a supernumerary?
Other poets have worked for the Water Bureau.
Too bad I was no help to the government
but still they pay me in old wine sacks.

translated by Burton Watson

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