It has turned crystal clear lately
And flows away like a ribbon of smoke
With a music like a ten stringed zither.
The sound penetrates to my pillow,
And turns my mind to past loves,
And won’t let me sleep for melancholy.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
And as Autumn proceeds maybe the brook will freeze and stop flowing like my thoughts of past loves.
I believe you have your own poem in those lines.