I sit alone among dark bamboos,
Strum the lute and let loose my voice.
Grove so deep, no one knows.
The moon visits and shines on me.

translated by Wai-lim Yip

Dismount and drink this wine.
Where to? I ask.
At odds with the world:
Return to rest by the South Hill.
Go. Go. Do not ask again.
Endless, the white clouds.

translated by Wai-lim Yip

Dismount and drink this wine.
Where to? I ask.
At odds with the world:
Return to rest by the South Hill.
Go. Go. Do not ask again.
Endless, the white clouds.

translated by Wai-lim Yip

Morning rain dampens the dust in Weicheng
new willow branches have turned the inn green
drink one more cup of wine my friend
west of Yang Pass there’s no one you know

translated by Red Pine

I dismount from my horse and I offer you wine,
And I ask you where you are going and why.
And you answer: “I am discontent
And would rest at the foot of the southern mountain.
So give me leave and ask no questions.
White clouds pass there without end.”

translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu

We dismount; I give you wine
and ask, where are you off to?
You answer, nothing goes right!–
back home to lie down by Southern Mountain.
Go then–I’ll ask no more–
there’s no end to white clouds there.

translated by Burton Watson

You who come from my village
Ought to know its affairs
The day you passed the silk window
Had the chill plum bloomed?

translated by Gary Snyder

I rinse my mouth in the water and wash my feet.
In front, I face an old man angling for fish:
How many in all are those who lusted for bait
And now vainly long to be “east of the lotus leaves.”

translated by Hugh M. Stimson

Dismounting, I offer you wine
And ask, “Where are you bound?”
You say, “I’ve found no fame or fortune;
I must return to rest in the South Mountain.”
You leave, and I ask no more–
White clouds drift on and on.

translated by Irving Y. Lo