Quote for the Week
- When I was young, I was out of tune with the herd,
My only love was for the hills and mountains.
Unwitting I fell into the Web of World’s dust,
And was not free until my thirtieth year.
The migrant bird longs for the old wood;
The fish in the tank thinks of its native pool.
I had rescued from wildness a patch of the Southern Moor
And, still rustic, I returned to field and garden.
My ground covers no more than ten acres;
My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms.
Elms and willows cluster by the eaves;
Peach trees and plum trees grow before the Hall.
Hazy, hazy the distant hamlets of men;
Steady the smoke that hangs over cottage roofs.
A dog barks somewhere in the deep lanes,
A cock crows at the top of the mulberry tree.
At gate and courtyard—no murmur of the World’s dust;
In the empty rooms—leisure and deep stillness.
Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage;
Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom.
- “Returning to the Fields”
- Arthur Waley Translations from the Chinese (1941), p. 90; courtesy of Wikiquote
Posted on 05/02/2017, in literature, poetry, quote of the week, quotes and tagged Chinese language, Chinese literature, Chinese poetry, poems, poetry, T'ao Ch'ien, Tao Qian, Tao Yuanming. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.