The autumn chrysanthemums bloom in splendid hues;Dew-kissed, I pluck their petals.I steep them in this sorrow-forgetting brew,To distance myself from worldly cares.Though I drink this cup alone,When the cup is empty, the pot pours on its own.As the sun sets, all bustling life comes to rest,And homeward-bound birds fly to the woods, singing.Beneath my…
— by Tao Yuanming (Jin Dynasty) I build my hut among the haunts of men,Yet hear no noise of carts and horses there.You ask me how this can be so?When the heart is distant, the place itself grows remote.I pluck chrysanthemums beneath the eastern hedge,And idly gaze at the southern hills.The mountain air is…