Mud fails to touch and soil its perfect hue.
A gentleman lives up to its proud name.
Wind wafts its scent on quiet moonlit nights.
My fate naturally has many twists and sharp turns,
So in everything I trust in the wisdom of God.
A plough and a spade, that's all.
A row of chrysanthemums, and orchids,
A place to plant beans: That's all I need.
All at the same level, wooden poles are driven into the waves;
Ironically, the river is safest in its net of chains.