Beneath the light, the river and hills are beautiful, The spring breeze bears the fragrance of flowers and grass. The mud has thawed, and swallows fly around. On the warm sand, mandarin ducks are sleeping.

Could I get mansions covering ten thousand miles, I'd house all the poor scholars and make them beam with smiles

The bitter pinecone may be eaten, The mist on high give nourishment. The whole world takes to go-and-getting; My way alone is difficult.

The weeping voices rise straight up and strike the clouds. A passer-by at the roadside asks a conscript why, The conscript answers only that drafting happens often.

O, from the ancient days always there have been travelers. So why should I grieve?

Blue is the smoke of wrar, white the bones of men.

This cream will help one's nature strengthen and grow, The diet gives support in my decline.