Another night on the water: last light,
Woodsmoke again, and then this station. Here
Beyond the lake, against the enduring white of
Shoreline sand, fresh green reeds. Occurrence,

Ch’i’s ten thousand forms of spring—among
All this, my lone craft is another Wandering Star.
Carried by waves, the moon’s light limitless,
I shade deep into the pellucid southern darkness.

translated by David Hinton