Feet stuck out, singing wildly, I beat an old clay tub;
singeing fur, roasting meats, like a northwest nomad.
Outriders shout through the market–you’ve come to fetch me;
on Fishing Point, sand is swept, wine jars set out.
Boys from the foothills crowd to watch us dance;
white bones by the river remember your kindness.
One cloud, a slanting sun–I gaze southwest
and envy crows that know the way back home.

POET’S NOTE TO THE POEM: Governor Chan came to visit me, bringing wine. Using a previous rhyme of mine, he composed a poem, and I responded with another poem in the same rhyme.

translated by Burton Watson