I AM OLD AND I AM BORED. I WAS NEVER VERY WISE AND MY MIND HAS NEVER WALKED MUCH FURTHER THAN MY FEET. ONLY MY FOREST, MY FOREST ... I GO BACK AND BACK TO WANDER THERE.

THERE BLUE FINGERS OF THE MOON STILL PLAY ON MY OLD LUTE. THERE WIND SCATTERS CLOUDS AND COMES DOWN TO FLUTTER MY ROBE.

YOU ASK ME WHAT IS THE BEST HAPPINESS OF ALL? IN THE FOREST IT IS SWEET TO HEAR A GIRL SINGING ON THE PATH, AFTER SHE HAS STOPPED TO ASK HER WAY, AND THANKED YOU WITH A SMILE. [Wang-Wei]