The Jade Mountain/A Night Abroad
A NIGHT ABROAD
A light wind is rippling at the grassy shore. . . .Through the night, to my motionless tall mast,The stars lean down from open space,And the moon comes running up the river.. . . If only my art might bring me fameAnd free my sick old age from office!—Flitting, flitting, what am I likeBut a sand-snipe in the wide, wide world!