石苍舒醉墨堂 - 苏轼
Shi Cangshus Drunken Ink Room - Su Shi
Life’s misery begins with the ability to read, know how to recognize how your name is spelled and stop.
What use is praising the lightening speed of cursive, readers worry when they see scribbled characters upon a scroll.
I laugh at myself when I think of how I used to like cursive, when will this illness of mine be cured?
I’ve said myself that writing this way brings the upmost happiness, it fits my character like wandering without destination.
You, my dear friend, have a writing room named Drunken Ink, it lifts all sorrows like drinking exquisite wine.
The knowing Liaozi’s words were not presumptuous, love for something makes even arduous tasks enjoyable.
His skill in writing was also magnificent, one can almost see a hill piled high of broken brushes.
A hundred papers filled in a flash of inspiration, in a flash the handsome horse treads over the nine states.
My calligraphy is imaginative and without skill, I carelessly let strokes go without a thought of correct style.
You ought not think highly of my bad writing, but you collect and store my words and papers.
I am content not being inferior to Zhong Zhang, and my writing is much better than Luo Zhao’s.
We need not be miserable studying at the pond’s edge, providing bedsheets for ourselves only after the cloth is filled with characters.