The house I’ve recently bought is well-enclosed
And suitable for a good residence indeed,
I only feel the courtyard is too small, and when
I look at the sky, it isn’t big enough for me—
With my unfettered nature, I don’t like it this way.
Only a hundred steps north from the home,
There is a beautiful stone bridge, and from there
Another thirty steps bring me to the house
Under the signboard “Plum Blooming Tower,”
With vacant spaces all around. When I have
A drink or two on the Tower’s balcony, I can
Look out and see the willow banks and
The wooden bridge across the rapid stream
Running between old huts and mulberry fields
Against a background of the lofty city walls
To be quite fascinated by the view. If I would get
Another sixty thousand in cash, I could buy
A big lot for myself to build up a mansion
On the site for my latter days. My good intention
Is to build up an earthen wall around it, and plant
A lot of bamboos and flowers and many fruit trees.
I’m going to have an ancient style Stone Garden
With path of paved pebbles leading from the gate
To the house. There will be two main rooms,
One for the living-room, one for the study
Where I could keep my books, paintings, brushes,
Ink-slabs, wine-kettle and tea service and where
I can discuss the poetry, essays and fine art works
With some good friends and, of course,
With the younger generation. Behind this,
There will be the family parlours with three halls,
Two kitchens, one cellar, one guest room
And one servant’s chamber. Altogether, there will be
Ten large and small rooms, very well oriented
According to the ‘feng-shui’ rules, all covered
With creepers and grass-sheds, and I shall be
Quite content with that. Great! Early in the morning,
Just before sunrise, I could look east and see
The red glow of the morning pink clouds and,
At sunset, the sun would shine from behind my trees.
Standing upon a high place in the courtyard,
One could already see the bridge and the clouds
And the stream in the distance, in perfect silence,
And when giving a party at night, one could see
The neighbouring lights outside the wall separated
From by a lovely alley. My goodness! It’s quite ideal.
However, some may say, "This is comfortable indeed,
Only there may be burglars getting into the house."
Maybe. But one who says so doesn’t know
That burglars are also but poor petty guys; therefore,
To keep the ideal line of my dreaming-dwelling,
I would open the door and invite them to come in
And discuss with them what they might share.
Whatever there is, they could take away, and if
Nothing will really suit them, they might even
Take away the priceless old carpet I’ve brought
From Persia the other day. They could pawn it
For a couple of hundreds of cash or so, to be afloat
For a while then. Please, my dear reader, who laughs
So loudly at these lines of mine, bear this in mind
That for this is your idle author's dreaming,
As of many other guys on earth, though, whether
He may have what he so desires for spending
In the silence his placid old age or not. And time,
Which now works against him, will not fail to tell.
It seems that this is the only game left for him to play. . .
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The word play of this dream is quite fascinating.
Beautiful image.
Lady Mary Ann
Sandie
I built a dream home once many years ago, set on a hillside over a placid pond set in deep woods that only revealed the expanse of city lights far below when the winter shed their garments. Unfortunately, for employment I was forced to leave it within a year after its completion and brief enjoyment.
I have since in recent years, dreamed of building another country home of equal grandeur, but have found that circumstance, money, and my aging condition have gotten in the way, so for now, I have settled for this little piece of suburbia that I've grown so accustomed to.
Ron
I simply cannot tell you how often I dream of such a place.
Keep on reaching for the stars, dreams do come true!
Peace, love and light
Amber