So Caite printed this out for me.

Welcome to my life of endless battles..

Hollow glories won on a snail’s horn,

on a fly’s head some small advantage gained:

when I think about it, why

do we go to such pointless trouble?

Everything that happens

has been settled long before - 

No one comes out short,

no one comes out ahead. 

So I’ll make the most of my leisure,

and the fact that I’m not yet too old 

and indulge myself to my limit

in a little wildness.

In life’s possible hundred years 

you should let yourself get drunk in total 

thirty-six thousand times. 

I have considered it,

and how much longer do we have - 

with gloomy winds and rain

keeping us from half?

Also why should we 

spend the rest of our lives arguing 

over what’s better, what’s worse?

We are lucky to have cool breeze 

and also the silvery moon,

a cusion of moss spread for us,

a tent of cloud streched high.

The southland is fine,

a thousand cups of sweet wine,

and a song: ” Fragrance Fills the Yard”

- Su Shi