Since yesterday had throw me and bolt，

　　Today has hurt my heart even more.

　　The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort

　　As I face them from this villa¹， drinking my wine.

　　The bones of great writers are your brushes， in the school of heaven，

　　And I am Lesser² Hsieh growing up by your side.

　　We both are exalted³ to distant thought，

　　Aspiring⁴ to the sky and the bright moon.

　　But since water still flows， though we cut it with our swords，

　　And sorrow return，though we drown them with wine，

　　Since the world can in no way answer our craving⁵，

　　I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing-boat.