Revisiting General He’s
I
I asked about the bamboo of the eastern bridge,
and the general wrote a letter in reply.
I threw on my clothes inside out and ordered a carriage,
resting in peace here, it is indeed “my own cottage.”
Flowers secure, orioles brush past butterflies,
the brook raises a din, otters chase fish.
Coming again to this place where he spends his days off,
truly I dwell here as a rustic.