归去来辞
归去来兮！田园将芜，胡不归？既自以心为形役，奚惆怅而独悲？悟已往之不谏，知来者之可追。实迷途其未远，觉今是而昨非。
舟摇摇以轻扬，风飘飘而吹衣。问征夫以前路，恨晨光之熹微。乃瞻衡宇，载欣载奔。僮仆欢迎，稚子候门。三径就荒，松菊犹存。携幼入室，有酒盈樽。引壶觞以自酌，眄庭柯以怡颜。倚南窗以寄傲，审容膝之易安。园日涉以成趣，门虽设而常关。策扶老以流憩，时矫首而遐观。云无心以出岫，鸟倦飞而知还。景翳翳以将入，抚孤松而盘桓。
归去来兮，请息交以绝游。世与我而相遗，复驾言兮焉求？悦亲戚之情话，乐琴书以消忧。农人告余以春及，将有事于西畴。或命巾车，或棹孤舟。既窈窕以寻壑，亦崎岖而经丘。木欣欣以向荣，泉涓涓而始流。善万物之得时，感吾生之行休。
已矣乎！寓形宇内复几时，曷不委心任去留？胡为遑遑欲何之？富贵非吾愿，帝乡不可期。怀良辰以孤往，或植杖而耘耔。登东皋以舒啸，临清流而赋诗。聊乘化以归尽，乐夫天命复奚疑！
译文：
Going Home
Going home! The land will soon lie in waste. Why shouldn’t I go home?
Since I willingly let my mind be enslaved by my worldly desires,
Why should I feel remorseful and sad?
Knowing that what I did in the past cannot be redressed,
I can still retrieve my mistakes in the future;
I have not gone too far on the wrong path,
And now I am on the right path of today,not the wrong one of yesterday.
The boat is moving swiftly ahead with the wind blowing on my garment.
I ask the way from a passer-by and feel sad that there is yet only a gleam of early dawn.
The shabby house is in view in the distance,
I run happily towards it.
The boy servant comes forward to welcome me,
My youngest son is also waiting for me at the gate.
Though the paths in the garden have nearlybeen decimated,
The pine trees and the chrysanthemums arestill there.
Holding the hand of my child, I walk into the house,
There on the table is wine prepared.
I take up the wine vessel and drink alone,
Enjoying the view of the trees in the garden.
I lean against the south window to indulge in my lofty meditations,
Contented with the ease of living in as mall house.
I find pleasure in walking in the garden every day,
Though there is gate , it is closed all day.
With a staff I roam around, and rest whenever I feel the need,
And at times raise my head to look in thedistance.
Clouds drift out aimlessly from behind the mountains,
Birds will return to their nests whentired.
It grows dim as the sun sets,
I linger, stroking the trunk of the solitary pine tree.
Going home! I will cut off all human relations.
Since the world is at odds with me,
What should I seek by driving out in a carriage?
I will have intimate talks with my kinsmen,
And forget my miseries by playing on the harp and reading books.
Country folks will come to tell me that spring has come,
And that farm work will begin in the western field.
I would either ride on a cart, or row a small boat,
Sometimes following a clear and deep stream that leads me to a valley,
Sometimes walking along a rugged and bumpy path that takes me over a hill
Trees are growing boisterously.
Spring water is flowing smoothly.
I envy all things that enjoy the blessing of nature
And feel miserable that my life will soon be over.
Alas! How many more days can I live on this earth?
Why not take life as it is?
Why do I worry? What am I aspiring to?
I do not seek wealth and position,
Nor do I desire to live with fairies and gods.
I would go out alone on a fine day,
To cultivate farmland with my staff laid aside.
I would shout aloud on the top of the eastern hill,
And compose poems by clear streams.
Welcoming death as part of the vicissitudes of life,
I would be contended with what is willed by Heaven.
What else do I want.
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