Han Wangxi THE story of “The Record of the Peach Blossom Spring” is, in fact, Tao Yuanming’s dream of retreating to a rural life. His “Returning Home Ode” serves as his declaration to leave his official career and return to the countryside. In year 405 during the Eastern Jin Dynasty (317-420), Tao resigned from his official position and returned to rural life, writing “Returning Home Ode.” He started his official career at the age of 29 and spent 13 years in the government, consistently disliking it and longing for rural life. Oh, to return! The countryside is becoming desolate, why not return? Since realizing that his spirit was enslaved by the physical body, why indulge in sorrow and disappointment? I know past mistakes cannot be undone, but the future can still be redeemed. I did stray, but not too far. I am now awakened to the correctness of my current choice, while the past years were indeed a wandering. The boat gently drifts on the water, moving swiftly. The wind dances, lifting fluttering clothes. I inquire about the road ahead from a passerby, eagerly anticipating the break of dawn. Let’s return; I want to sever ties with worldly people. If worldly affairs conflict with my principles, what more can I strive for? From now on, I’ll find joy in heartfelt conversations with loved ones and derive happiness from playing the zither and reading books to dispel sorrows. A farmer tells me that spring has arrived, and cultivation will begin in the fields to the west. Sometimes riding a small cart, other times rowing a small boat, occasionally passing through secluded and winding mountain valleys, sometimes traversing uneven mountain paths, lush vegetation, and slow-flowing water. I envy the flourishing growth of all things and lament that my life is approaching its end. Let it be; how much longer can one live in this world? Why not let go and allow things to unfold naturally? Why remain restless, longing to go somewhere? Wealth and glory are not what I seek; immortality is not possible. Seizing the beautiful moments, I relish the serene scenery alone. Sometimes, with a cane in hand, I weed and cultivate the soil, ascend the high east hill, and let out a long roar, reciting poetry by the clear stream. Letting life’s journey unfold naturally, embracing a carefree acceptance of destiny, what more is there to hesitate about? (The author is a cultural scholar.) (Translated by Shenzhen Daily) | 