How to translate the poem of seclusion in the deep mountains?

In the deep mountains of Yu Jia, at the turn of spring and summer, moss is full of steps, fallen flowers are full of paths, doors are not peeled and pecked, pine shadows are uneven, and birds are singing up and down. At the beginning of a nap, take a walk around the mountain spring, pick up pine branches and sip bitter tea. Feel free to read Zhouyi, Guofeng, Zuo Zhuan, Li Sao, Taishi Gongshu, Du Tao's Poems and Han. Take a leisurely walk in the mountain path, relax the bamboo forest, and die with the musk deer calf in the lush grass of the long forest. Sit on a running spring and wash your teeth and feet. That is, under the bamboo window, the mountain wife and young son, for bamboo shoots as ferns, for wheat as rice, happily satisfied. Make a few crosses according to the size between the pen windows to show the hidden calligraphy posts, ink marks and painting axes. When you are excited, you can recite a small poem or write a paragraph or two. Make another cup of bitter tea, step out of the stream, meet Weng Xiyou in the garden, ask Sang Ma, say that japonica rice is better than fish, and talk about drama for a salary when exploring festivals. Back in Chai Men, leaning on the staff, the sunset on the mountain is colorful and unpredictable for an instant. Cow's back flute, two returns, moon print creek. "

Haha, you are so lucky. You didn't ask for an interpreter, I was in a hurry ~

Translate the following text (personal opinions are for reference only, just copy them to the teacher)

I make my home in the deep mountains. Every late spring and early summer, the steps are covered with lush moss, and falling petals cover the path. Nobody knocked at the door (disturbing) [actually, I wish someone would disturb me-]. The shadows of pine trees are mottled, and the songs of birds are high and low. Just enough for a nap, I'll take some mountain spring water, pick up some pine branches and make some bitter tea. I am interested in reading several articles such as Zhouyi, National Style, Zuo Zhuan, Li Sao, Taishi Gongshu, poems by Tao Yuanming, Du Fu, Han Yu and Liu Zongyuan. [Hypocrisy and affectation] Walking leisurely on the mountain road, stroking pine trees and bamboo, just like small musk deer calves, they all rest in the tall Woods and lush grass. Sit down and enjoy the running spring, rinse your mouth and wash your feet. [Compared with Qu Yuan's The Fisherman, fortunately, I didn't have the courage to wash my ears] Soon I returned to my home with bamboo windows, where my wife and young children cooked bamboo shoots and bracken, served rice cooked with wheat and had a good time. [I am so happy? Pick up a pen by the window, write dozens of words, or (or) spread out the template copybook, and enjoy the original (celebrity) with the scroll. [affectation, affectation! ] When you are in the mood, you can recite a small poem, or cursive one or two paragraphs of "Jade Dew". [Invincible melodramatic] Cook another cup of bitter tea, go out for a walk by the stream, meet an uncle who farmed or a friend who accidentally fished, ask mulberry leaves, talk about stalks of rice, guess the weather, see who catches more fish, make an appointment to have dinner together, and talk to you on holidays or good days. [My heart is a little uneven ...] Back home, leaning against Chai Men, the sunset hangs on the mountain. There are countless purples and greens, which change rapidly and are dazzling in beauty. [It's just sunset] (until the shepherd boy rides a horse), the cow's back is accompanied by a flute, and then the moon (already) reflects the stream. This is a typical life of China's ancient political losers who could neither be an official nor earn money. Now it seems quite cool, but unfortunately there is no meat to eat.