yě wài hǎn rén shì,
qióng xiàng guǎ lún yàng。
bái rì yǎn jīng fēi,
xū shì jué chén xiǎng。
shí fù xū qū zhōng,
pī cǎo gòng lái wǎng。
xiāng jiàn wú zá yán,
dàn dào sāng má cháng。
sāng má rì yǐ cháng,
wǒ tǔ rì yǐ guǎng。
cháng kǒng shuāng xiàn zhì,
líng luò tóng cǎo mǎng。
Out there in the fields, few social affairs,
on backwoods lanes, rarely a horse or carriage;
bright daylight, but I shut my bramblewood door,
in empty rooms rid myself of dusty thoughts.
And then at times in the little village,
pushing through the grass, I come and go with the others,
but when we meet, no idle chatter,
only talk of how mulberry and hemp are growing.
My mulberry and hemp have daily grown taller,
my lands grown broader day by day,
but always I fear that frost or hail may come
and knock them all down like so many weeds.