Chinese writing is often so beautiful, poignant, and so tragic. It would be a pity to miss some of the words it offers. This one is entitled "Drinking Wine".
"I built my hut in a place where people live,and yet there's no clatter of carriage or horse. You ask me how that could be? With a mind remote, the region too grows distant.
I pick chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge, see the southern mountain, calm and still.
The mountain air is beautiful at close of day, birds on the wing coming home together.
In all this there's some principle of truth, but try to define it and you forget the word."
by Tao Yuan-ming
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