The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.

You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men.

Heaven is high, Earth Wide. Bitter between them flies my sorrow.

Growing older, I love only quietness: who need be concerned with the things of this world? Looking back, what better plan than this: returning to the grove.

Forever and forever and forever

Since Life is but a Dream, Why toil to no avail?

To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.