oke of all our meetings and partings,
and of the occasion of your own difficulties and dangers. You had no
time to write more, but sent a bundle of your writings with a note
attached, which said, "Later on I will send a message by Po
Min-chung.[5] Ask him for news and that will do instead of a letter."
Alas! Is it thus that Wei-chih treats me? But again, I read the poem you
wrote when you heard I had been banished:

_The lamp had almost spent its light: shadows filled the room,
The night I heard that Lo-t`ien was banished to Kiu-kiang.
And I that had lain sick to death sat up suddenly in bed;
A dark wind blowing rain entered at the cold window._

If even strangers' hearts are touched by these lines, much more must
mine be; so that to this day I cannot recite them without pain. Of this
matter I will say no more, but tell you briefly what has passed of late.

It is more than three years since I came to Kiu-kiang. All this time my
body has been strong and my heart much at peace. There has been no
sickness in my household, even among the servants. Last summer my elder
brother arrived from Hsuu-chou, leading by the hand six or seven little
brothers and sisters, orphans of various households. So that I have
under my eyes all those who at present demand my care. They share with
me cold and heat, hunger and satiety. This is my first consolation.

The climate of the River Province is somewhat cool, so that fevers and
epidemics are rare. And while snakes and mosquitoes are few, the fish in
the Pen1 are remarkably fat, the River wine is exceedingly good, and
indeed for the most part the food is like that of the North Country.
Although the mouths within my doors are many and the salary of a
Sub-Prefect is small, by a thrifty application of my means, I am yet
able to provide for my household without seeking any man's assistance to
clothe their backs or fill their bellies. This is my second consolation.

In the autumn of last year I visited Lu Shan[6] for the first time.
Reaching a point between the Eastern Forest and Western Forest Temples,
beneath the Incense-Burner Peak, I was enamoured by the unequalled
prospect of cloud-girt waters and spray-clad rocks. Unable to leave
this place, I built a cottage here. Before it stand ten tall pines and a
thousand tapering bamboos. With green creepers I fenced my garden; with
white stones I made bridge and path. Flowing waters encircle my home;
flying spray falls between th