Answering Vice-Prefect Zhang
As the years go by, give me but peace,
Freedom from ten thousand matters.
I ask myself and always answer:
What can be better than coming home?
A wind from the pine-trees blows my sash,
And my lute is bright with the mountain moon.
You ask me about good and evil fortune?.
Hark, on the lake there's a fisherman singing!
by Wang Wei
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