闲居自述 – 陸游

自许山翁懒是真，纷纷外物岂关身。

花如解笑还多事，石不能言最可人。

净扫明窗凭素几，闲穿密竹岸乌巾。

残年自有青天管，便是无锥也未贫。

Self-Narrative of a Hermit by Lu You

‘Tis true I call myself a hermit in self-exile,

The mountain keeps away any earthy affair.

Sick at heart if flowers touch my pulse with a smile,

Instead, silent stones offer me endearing care.

I’d muse at my table, or clean the windows bright,

Or stroll midst bamboos; a black turban I’d oft wear.

My twilight years are destined by heavenly might,

Even penniless, I’m content sans any scare.

Tr. Ziyuzile

31/05/2024