English Rendering
A scholar wearing black hood in our southern town,
He’s not reduced to poverty with nuts and taros grown.
Used to seeing guests, his children are happy and gay;
Tamed by frequent feeding, birds hop on steps in play.
In autumn water only four or five feet deep,
Two or three men on a boat along the stream float.
By white sand and green bamboos when night is late and steep,
Before his wicket gate we gaze at the moon new and great.
