I built a hut in the human world,
Where there was no sound of carthorse yoked.
You asked me then how this could be:
When the heart is distant, the dwelling is far.
I gather ju hua under eastern hedge;
Distant I sight the Southern Peak.
At sunset the mountain mist is fine
And the birds return flying, each to each.
Within this there is a true intent:
I would explain, but have forgotten speech.