鐔津文集 12.20

12.20

The South Veranda is situated directly north of Mount Nanping, and the mountain is only a few hundred paces away. Leaning on the veranda to look out, not the finest autumn hair of the grasses, trees, clouds, and creatures is concealed. When the rain clears, the mountain light shines fresh and emerald, illuminating the pillow and mats. In summer, the gentle breeze wafts freely, coming on its own without being drawn in. In winter, it squarely catches the sun, overcoming the biting cold. A guest with ample leisure and uncommitted time, of no use to the world, can spend all day resting and contemplating amidst it; often his bosom becomes open and expansive and his spiritual energy vast and free, as if standing alone outside heaven and earth. Among the discerning of antiquity, who did not value finding an agreeable dwelling? If one can only rectify one's thoughts so that good fortune, misfortune, remorse, and humiliation do not harm the Dao, then even a thatched roof and earthen steps are not considered humble. Tao Yuanming said: 'Whistling proudly beneath the eastern veranda, / I can manage to pass this life.' How is this not finding an agreeable dwelling? The South Veranda constitutes the rear pillars of my lodging. Master Wei, not taking me to be unworthy, accommodated me here. When matters arose and I was about to depart, I considered how the South Veranda sustained my utter foolishness, seemingly providing an agreeable dwelling; even if the host had subjected me to menial tasks, I would still have hastened to obey his commands—how much more so when he graciously received me with virtue and righteousness? How then could I lightly part from the South Veranda? The inscription reads: