العودة إلى الجبل الجنوبي في نهاية العام

العودة إلى الجبل الجنوبي في نهاية العام

I no longer submit petitions at the northern palace gates,

but return to my humble hut on Mount Nan.

An unworthy talent cast aside by a discerning lord,

ill and bedridden, old friends grow distant.

White hair hastens the years to their close,

the spring sun presses the old year to its end.

Forever I brood, unable to sleep—

pine shadows and moonlight fill the empty window.