At the age of 36, I was strong and full of poetry. That year, the emperor chose me to be an official in Beijing. Since then, I have been busy with business every day and have no time to go home and reunite with my relatives. Thirty-nine years later, I am old. The emperor saw me as useless, a little deaf and blind, and I was 75 years old, so he ordered me to resign and return to China. I smiled on my wrinkled face at the thought of meeting my relatives soon.
I sat in a carriage, admiring the beautiful mountains and rivers of the motherland along the way, and thought: Is Shaoxing, my hometown, still like that? I can't wait to go home immediately and try the tender loofah and red tomatoes in the garden ... I must go to the big peach tree to enjoy the cool and go fishing in the big round fish pond at night ... My hometown accent has not changed for decades, but my hair is gray. I wonder if my wife and family still know me.
After a month of camping, I finally got back to my hometown. Ah, my hometown, my home! The hut I built when I was a child is still there, the clear fish pond is still there, and the colorful goldfish are still there! I also saw a group of lively and lovely children playing in front of my house. Ah, these must be my children and grandchildren. Although my hair is white and I still have a beard, I am very satisfied with my children and grandchildren now. Several children saw me coming and gathered around curiously. An older and bolder little boy looked up and smiled and said to me, "Grandpa, where are you from and where are you going?" When I heard that, a wry smile appeared on my face and I was deeply touched. At that time, I was in a particularly good mood and sang a poem:
Young people leave home, old people return, and the local accent has not changed.
Children don't know each other when they meet. Where do they come from?