Zhang Shao said: 'Brother Li, I have just presumed to speak the opening lines; now it is your turn, elder brother — you begin a couplet, and I, your younger, will carry it on.'

僭先 is 'to presume to go first'; 起一聯 is to compose the opening 聯 (couplet), 續之 'to continue it.' The courtesy formula frames the second round of linked verse, though what follows stands as Li Ding's own sustained 排律. 當 in 亦當 is dāng, 'ought to.'

A wind-and-moon madman by pretense, a fellow of the hills and wilds; on rivers and lakes I lodge my pride, an old man past his service years.

佯狂 is 'to feign madness,' the recluse's guise; 寄傲 ('to lodge one's pride') echoes Tao Qian, 老餘丁 'an old surplus conscript' no longer on the rolls.

Of pure leisure I have my share, and follow where freedom leads; of wrangling tongues I hear nothing, and delight in the peace of the times.

有分 is 'to have one's portion of,' 瀟灑 free ease; 口舌 ('mouth and tongue') is strife, 太平 the peace of a well-ordered age.

On moonlit nights I sleep sound in my thatched hut; when the sky darkens I cover myself with a light bamboo-leaf cape.

穩 is 'secure, sound'; 箬簑 is a rain-cape woven of 箬 (broad bamboo leaves), the woodcutter's answering the fisherman's straw one.

Forgetting the self, I make friends of pine and plum; gladly I keep company in the pact of gulls and egrets.

忘情 is 'free of attachment'; 相 in 相交 is xiāng, 樂意 'gladly.' 松梅友 and 鷗鷺盟 ('the pact of gulls and egrets') are classic figures for the recluse whom even wild birds trust.

In my heart no scheming after fame or gain; at my ears no sound of shield and spear.

算計 is 'scheming,' 干戈 ('shield and spear') war and its alarms; 不 is bù before the level tone of 聞. The couplet renounces both ambition and strife.

As the mood takes me, a single cup of fragrant unstrained wine; to pass the day, three meals of wild-herb broth.

一 is yì before 酌; 香醪 (xiāng láo) is fragrant unfiltered wine, 野菜羹 a broth of wild greens — the plain fare of the hills.

Two bundles of firewood serve me for a living; a single rod with hook and line is my whole trade.

為 in 為活計 ('to serve as a livelihood') is wéi; 一 is yì before 竿, 營生 'to make a living.' The couplet pairs the two trades' bare tools.

At leisure I call my little ones to whet the steel axe; in quiet I bid my simple boys mend the old nets.

稚子 ('young children') takes 子 as zǐ; 憨兒 is 'artless children,' 繒 (zēng) the fishing-net. 稚子 and 憨兒 pair the two households' children.

When spring arrives I love to watch the willows green; when the season softens I delight to see the reeds turn blue.

時融 is 'when the season grows mild'; 荻蘆 are reeds and rushes. The 排律 now runs the whole year, opening with spring.

In summer, escaping the heat, I trim the new bamboo; in the sixth month, taking the cool, I pluck the tender water-caltrop.

避暑 is 'to flee the summer heat'; 乘 in 乘涼 ('to take the cool') is chéng, 嫩菱 the young water-caltrop.

At Frost's Descent the fowl are fat, and I butcher them any day; at the Double Ninth the crabs are plump, and I boil them in season.

霜降 (Shuāngjiàng, 'Descent of Frost') is a mid-autumn solar term, 降 jiàng; 重 in 重陽 (Chóngyáng, the Double Ninth) is chóng. 常日宰 is 'to slaughter on any day.'

When winter comes and the sun is up, I am still deep in sleep; through the nine-nines, though the sky be high, of myself I feel no cold.

還 is hái, 'still'; 數 in 數九 ('the nine nine-day periods' of deepest winter) is shǔ, 'to count.' Note that this couplet's closing 寒 (hán) falls outside the poem's otherwise consistent -eng/-ing rhyme — an irregularity preserved here from the 世德堂本.

Through the eight seasons, in the hills, I give my nature free rein; through the four seasons, on the lake, I let my feelings roam at will.

八節 are the eight seasonal nodes, 中 zhōng; 放性 is 'to let one's nature go free,' 陶情 'to give the feelings free play.' 八節 and 四時 pair mountain and lake across the whole year.

Gathering firewood, I have the very zest of an immortal's household; casting my line, I keep nothing of the worldly form at all.

興 in 仙家興 ('the mood of an immortal') is xìng, 'zest'; 世俗形 is 'the shape of the vulgar world.' The couplet lifts both trades above the mundane.

Beyond my door the wild flowers are fragrant and bright; at my boat's prow the green water lies wave upon level wave.

豔豔 ('brilliant, gorgeous') and 平平 ('flat and calm') are paired reduplicated intensives, setting flowering land against tranquil water.

With my body at peace, I speak not of the Three Ministers' rank; with my nature settled, I am better off than a ten-lǐ city.

三公 are the Three Ducal Ministers, the summit of office; 不 is bù before 說; 強如 is 'better than,' 十里城 a walled city ten lǐ around. 身安 and 性定 echo the fisherman's poem, and open this poem's rhetorical climax.

A ten-lǐ city, for all its high walls, must guard against the general's command; the Three Ministers, for all their eminence, must heed the herald's summons.

A pointed 頂真 (anadiplosis): the couplet takes up 十里城 and 三公位 from the couplet before. 閫令 ('orders from the gate-sill,' 閫 kǔn) are military commands; 聽宣 is 'to await the imperial proclamation.' Even city and minister are bound by command, while the recluse alone is free.

To delight in hills and delight in waters — this is truly rare; I thank Heaven, thank Earth, and thank the bright gods.

樂山樂水 invokes the Analects (知者樂水，仁者樂山, 'the wise delight in water, the humane in hills'); in this idiom 樂 is read yào, 'to take joy in.' The threefold 謝 seals the verse on grateful contentment — the last calm before the storm; the 」 ends the recitation.