渔翁夜傍西岩宿,晓汲清湘燃楚竹。
烟销日出不见人,欸乃一声山水绿。
回看天际下中流,岩上无心云相逐。
An old fisherman spent the night here, under the western cliff;
He dipped up water from the pure Hsiang and made a bamboo fire;
And then, at sunrise, he went his way through the cloven mist,
With only the creak of his paddle left, in the greenness of mountain and river.
...I turn and see the waves moving as from heaven,
And clouds above the cliffs coming idly, one by one.
Seven-character-ancient-verse
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