THE RIVER VILLAGE

What a joke that scholar’s office cap was. Not another word:

my hair’s white now, and I’m happy dozing in a river village,

though birds roosting in deep forests call one after another,

and boats moving through locks kick up that racket all night.

I’m sick, but get up and rummage all day in tattered old books,

and when sorrow comes, I just pour a little crystalline wine,

but how secluded is this life anyway? Just listen to this place!

It’s late, and still some monk’s out knocking at a moonlit gate!