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RISING LATE AND PLAYING WITH A-TS'UI, AGED TWO
Written in 831
All the morning I have lain perversely in bed;
Now at dusk I rise with many yawns.
My warm stove is quick to get ablaze;
At the cold mirror I am slow in doing my hair.
With melted snow I boil fragrant tea;
Seasoned with curds I cook a milk-pudding.
At my sloth and greed there is no one but me to laugh;
My cheerful vigour none but myself knows.
The taste of my wine is mild and works no poison;
The notes of my harp are soft and bring no sadness.
To the Three Joys in the book of Mencius[1]
I have added the fourth of playing with my baby-boy.
- ↑ "Mencius," bk. vii, pt. i, 20.
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