Zhang Wang the Field Supervisor Returns After Attending to the Irrigation of the Rice Fields poem by Du Fu - Tang East Camp, north of the Great River, has hundreds of acres flat as a table. In the sixth month there is much green rice, a thousand fields with emerald streams running everywhere. Transplanting the sprouts has just been completed, they divert stream lets to increase irrigation. One after another they go off to the square pond, and open the ditches by the sharp slope. “It reaches public and private fields alike, well irrigated so that there be no drought. As the official in charge I asked the household officers: they saw it clearly by the creek.” Sprouts are flourishing, dazzling kingfisher feathers, sharp pointed growth brings forth a River of Stars. Gulls come within this mirror, the barrier mountains can be seen at the edge of clouds. In autumn the wild rice will form its black grains, measures of hulled rice will convey their white glitter. The jade grain will be enough for cooking breakfast, let the red rice spread in rosy clouds. In the end it will add to my sojourner’s fare, the work is hard, but we expect a splendid sight. The leftover heads of grain should reach all alike, I caution against too great bounty in my own granary. translated by Prof. Stephen Owen