Quietly, the water flows in its vastness.
Drifting, my cypress boat now floats, now loafs.
The faint sound of my whistling is carried away by the clean breeze;
I bend to the oars, and the boat rocks.
Putting down the oars and picking up the fishing rod —
I’d end my year in carefree wandering.
Having exterminated cleverness and discarded learning,
my mind wanders in the deep and the tranquil:
Not regretting if I committed an error,
nor making a show when meeting with success.
Fishing in a deep valley,
I enjoy my own world.
With my hair down, I stroll and sing,
and harmonious air suffuses all around me.
O! Sing and celebrate —
my mind wanders in the deep and tranquil.