道由白雲盡,春與清溪長。
時有落花至,遠隨流水香。
閑門嚮山路,深柳讀書堂。
幽映每白日,清輝照衣裳。
On a road outreaching the white clouds,
By a spring outrunning the bluest river,
Petals come drifting on the wind
And the brook is sweet with them all the way.
My quiet gate is a mountain-trail,
And the willow-trees about my cottage
Sift on my sleeve, through the shadowy noon,
Distillations of the sun.