"I built my cottage among the habitations of men,
And yet there is no clamor of carriages and horses.
You ask: 'Sir, how can this be done?''
A heart that is distant creates its own solitude.

I pluck chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge,
Then gaze afar towards the southern hills.
The mountain air is fresh at the dusk of day;
The flying birds in flocks return.

In these things there lies a deep meaning;
I want to tell it, but have forgotten the words."

~Tao YuanMing