Translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Wind passes over the lake.

The swelling waves stretch away
Without limit. Autumn comes with the twilight,
And boats grow rare on the river.
Flickering waters and fading mountains
Always touch the heart of man.
I never grow tired of singing
Of their boundless beauty.
The lotus pods are already formed,
And the water lilies have grown old.
The dew has brightened the blossoms
Of the arrowroot along the riverbank.
The herons and seagulls sleep
On the sand with their
Heads tucked away, as though
They did not wish to see
The men pass by on the river.

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