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A Guest Comes

North of my cottage, south of my cottage,
spring waters everywhere,
And all that I see are the flocks of the gulls
coming here day after day,
My path through the flowers has never yet
been swept for a visitor,
But today this wicker gate of mine
stands open just for you.
The market is far, so for dinner
there’ll be no wide range of tastes,
Our home is poor, and for wine
we have only an older vintage.
Are you willing to sit here and drink
with the old man who lives next door?
I’ll call to him over the hedge,
and we’ll finish the last of the cups.

-Tu Fu