Dreaming of Li Bai: 2

Some of us are like clouds drifting all day; we wander all our lives without a home. I dreamed of Li Bai for three nights. It’s obvious that we care about each other. I’d like to go home, but it’s not easily done. Many boats go out, but some are lost. Maybe we worry too much about ourselves. How can we think that we’ve failed as poets? We are not like the stuffed shirts at the capital, although it would be nice to be recognized there. They say good men are eventually rewarded, but my old body is entangled in fate’s net. What good is a name that will last forever when our lives are miserable and lonely?