A Mr. Hou of my circle, Hou Shuqi,
Called to me, " Get your pole and we'll fish in the Wen River. "
At daybreak we whipped our horses out the capital gates,
Then on and on all day long among thorns and brambles
The Wen is a rather hazy affair — it stops, then flows again,
As deep as a cart track, wide enough for a carriage pole,
Frogs leap over it, there baby wrens can bathe,
But even if there were fish, they wouldn't be worth the trouble
For Mr. Hou's sake I could not give up,
So we bent needles for hooks,
broke grains for bait,
cast them into the slime.
Ramrod stiff we sat from noontime on to yellow dusk,
Hands tired, eyes sore, then finally we got up —
It moved a moment!
then stopped,
we couldn't hope —
Shrimps moved, leeches crossed over as though all were in doubt,
I raised the pole and pulled in the line —
suddenly I had something!
An inch's worth — just old enough to tell the fins from scales
At this moment Mr. Hou and myself
Gazed mournfully at one another, sighing a good while.
Everything I do these days turns out just like this,
So this experience may well serve as an example for me:
Half of my life spent in a fluster to get chosen for a post,
When I first get that single title, my once young face is old
Why didn't I see the way things are in this human world?
Bringing pointless suffering on myself, and ultimately for what?
I just ought to take my wife and children by the hand,
Go south into Ying and Ji; never to return
Hou Xi, your spirit is at its keenest now —
What I say is really important — don't laugh at me! —
If you want to go fishing, you have to go really far,
Do you think a big fish would live in this backwash?
Called to me, " Get your pole and we'll fish in the Wen River. "
At daybreak we whipped our horses out the capital gates,
Then on and on all day long among thorns and brambles
The Wen is a rather hazy affair — it stops, then flows again,
As deep as a cart track, wide enough for a carriage pole,
Frogs leap over it, there baby wrens can bathe,
But even if there were fish, they wouldn't be worth the trouble
For Mr. Hou's sake I could not give up,
So we bent needles for hooks,
broke grains for bait,
cast them into the slime.
Ramrod stiff we sat from noontime on to yellow dusk,
Hands tired, eyes sore, then finally we got up —
It moved a moment!
then stopped,
we couldn't hope —
Shrimps moved, leeches crossed over as though all were in doubt,
I raised the pole and pulled in the line —
suddenly I had something!
An inch's worth — just old enough to tell the fins from scales
At this moment Mr. Hou and myself
Gazed mournfully at one another, sighing a good while.
Everything I do these days turns out just like this,
So this experience may well serve as an example for me:
Half of my life spent in a fluster to get chosen for a post,
When I first get that single title, my once young face is old
Why didn't I see the way things are in this human world?
Bringing pointless suffering on myself, and ultimately for what?
I just ought to take my wife and children by the hand,
Go south into Ying and Ji; never to return
Hou Xi, your spirit is at its keenest now —
What I say is really important — don't laugh at me! —
If you want to go fishing, you have to go really far,
Do you think a big fish would live in this backwash?