
How gladly I would seek a mountain
If I had enough means to live as a recluse!
For I turn at last from serving the State
To the Eastern Woods Temple and to you, my master.
...Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,
My youthful desires have been burnt with the years-
And tonight in the chilling sunset-wind
A cicada, singing, weighs on my heart.
This poem by Meng Haoran expresses his dejection after official career setbacks and yearning for reclusive life, while acknowledging his inability to fully detach from worldly concerns. Written with plain language and candid emotion, it stands as a moving lyrical confession.
一丘尝欲卧,三径苦无资。
北土非吾愿,东林怀我师。
黄金燃桂尽,壮志逐年衰。
日夕凉风至,闻蝉但益悲。
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