After Autumn Began
The sun and moon make no allowances:
Last night demarked the seasons’ change of sway;
Cicadas never cease their plaintive call,
The autumn swallow has packed to go away.
A life’s desire for freedom thwarted, I
Review with sorrow now I’m forty-eight;
Resigning office is one’s own affair,
What can have kept me harnessed as to fate?
Written after the Beginning of Autumn
The days and months show us no leniency,
last night the seasons in sequence changed.
Cold cicadas cease not in their cries,
autumn swallows are already like sojourners.
My lifetime desire, to go off on my own,
depressed that my years are half a century.
To quit office still comes from oneself –
why am I trapped in service to my body?
（Stephen Owen 译）