Pale wine brewed fresh ‘pon my mountain return,
and fair fowl peck feed to grow plump in fall
I call help to pair pale wine with roast fowl,
while children jeer and grab at my plain clothes
I sing aloud and seek wine to self-soothe,
dancing to vie with sunrise for splendor
Lobbying high suffers from time in lack,
horse whipped to reach a far-off place on clock
In Kuaiji, that fool wife disdained Maichen,*
and I, too, leave home for the capital.
Head back, I laugh as I head out the door;
how could I be a man of the wildlands?
* Zhu Maichen worked as a wood gatherer until he became an official of Kuaiji at forty-ish years of age. His wife left him before that, sick of being in poverty, and remarried. After he made something of himself, she committed suicide.