Hard Roads (A golden cup of pure wine worth ten thousand)

Hard Roads (A golden cup of pure wine worth ten thousand)

A goblet of pure wine, ten thousand coins a measure;

A plate of rare meats worth a thousand more.

I push my cup and chopsticks away, unable to eat;

I draw my sword, look around in every direction, my heart adrift.

I would cross the Yellow River, but ice blocks the stream;

I would climb Mount Taihang, but snow blankets the mountains.

In idle moments I once sat fishing upon the green stream;

Then suddenly I dreamed of sailing past the sun.

Hard is the way, hard is the way!

So many diverging paths—where are they now?

A time will come to ride the wind and cleave the waves;

I will set my cloud-white sail and cross the dark sea.