The poet lives in a bamboo studio, and when he sleeps at night, he hears the rain outside. In his dream, he seemed to see moss growing and the surrounding environment was quiet. It is only a mountain away from the author, and the body and mind are so quiet that even birds are not suspicious.
Listen to the rain.
Zhu Zhai sleeps in the rain and dreams of moss.
Opposite the lonely mountain, idle birds don't guess.
When guests are tired of wine, flowers bloom as poems.
It is especially good not to put down the curtains, lest dark clouds come.