鐔津文集 18.5

18.5

Beyond the eaves gusting winds blow, secluded birds return; / sitting alone by the window, affairs are truly few. / First looking at the calendar, the New Year is close at hand; / joyfully I watch over the mountain woods sudden snowflakes flying. / I only recall my old friend who is able to compose chants; / why should I care that as a long-time guest here I lack clothes? / Bao Zhao and Old Tang could give rein to their spirits— / how could city walls compare to being in the emerald haze?