Mêng Hao-jan
A MESSAGE FROM LAKE TUNG-T'ING
To Premier Chang
Here in the Eighth-month the waters of the lakeAre of a single air with heaven,And a mist from the Yun and Mêng valleysHas beleaguered the city of Yo-chou.I should like to cross, but I can find no boat.. . . How ashamed I am to be idler than you statesmen,As I sit here and watch a fisherman castingAnd emptily envy him his catch.
ON CLIMBING YEN MOUNTAIN WITH FRIENDS
While worldly matters take their turn,Ancient, modern, to and fro,Rivers and mountains are changeless in their gloryAnd still to be witnessed from this trail.. . . Where a fisher-boat dips by a waterfall,Where the air grows colder, deep in the valley,The monument of Yang remains;And we have wept, reading the words.
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