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
