So fine, the boards of magnolia;
splendid, the cinnamon woodwork!
You chased the waves, only to come to this;
rode the wind, yet brought on your own downfall.
Grasses are rank, your canopy was buried long ago;
the sands are monstrous, your hull would never budge.
How long it’s been since you sank in the dry land,
never again to ride the rippling sun.
translated by Burton Watson