灞原风雨定,晚见雁行频。
落叶他乡树,寒灯独夜人。
空园白露滴,孤壁野僧邻。
寄卧郊扉久,何年致此身。
After the shower at Bashang,
I see an evening line of wildgeese,
The limp-hanging leaves of a foreign tree,
A lantern's cold gleam, lonely in the night,
An empty garden, white with dew,
The ruined wall of a neighbouring monastery.
...I have taken my ease here long enough.
What am I waiting for, I wonder.