A Fisher (to the tune of Que Qiao Xian)

by Lu You (1125 - 1210)

A bamboo pole that has seen winds and moons,

A straw cape that has withstood mists and storms,

With these to accompany me,

My home is to the west of the angling jetty.

I hate to get near to the city gate,

Even for selling my catch,

Not to say deep into the madding crowd.

With rising tide, I get my oars ready;

With flood tide, I fasten the moorings;

And with ebb tide, I row home singing aloud.

People compare me to an ancient hermit,

I'm but an anonymous fisher.