A Madman
Dù Fǔ 712-770
West from Myriad League Bridge stands a Hall of Thatch;
Waters of Hundred Flower Tarn are my Waves of Watchet.
Wind enfolds alcedine bamboo
bright & gracefully pure;
Rains ablute pink lotuses
slow and gradually fragrant.
From amply salaried old friends
all letters curtailed;
My ever famished young sons
your complexions pallid.
About to be tossed into a ditch
just be unrestrained--
I laugh at myself
a madman
the older the madder
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