On the 7th day of the 3rd month we were caught in rain on our way to the Sandy Lake. The umbrellas had gone ahead, my companies were quite downhearted, but I took no notice. It soon cleared, and I wrote this.

Listen to the rain beating against the trees.

Why don't you slowly walk and chant at ease?

Better than a saddle I like sandals and cane.

I'd fain.

In a straw cloak, spend my life in mist and rain.

Drunken, I am sobered by the vernal wind shrill and rather chill.

In front, I see the slanting sun atop the hill;

Turning my head, I see the dreary beaten track.

Let me go back!

Impervious to rain or shine, I'll have my own will.