The Fifty Ways

"I write of all the sorrows of youth, asking neither spring's breeze nor autumn's chill."

With the heart set on distant horizons, how can I be shackled by the petty scheming of this world?

Though the world mocks and jeers, why should I care?

The mountain hawk cries aloud at the young phoenix, the sparrow mocks the giant Peng. In the end, it is all a laughingstock for the ages.

My heart follows the Great Dao. Why should I fear heaven and earth?

I await the day a butterfly enters my dream, and leads me, alone and awake, through this life.