On the Lake near the Western Mountains

Here at the foot-hills of the Western Mountains My boat rides idly on the current's trail, And in the lengthening radiance of the sunset It seems to chase its own reflected sail. While in the rarer light that heralds evening The forms of all things clearer seem to grow; The forests and the glades and mountain ranges Catch added beauty from the afterglow. The graceful minarets in cloudland floating From jadestone green take on a sombre hue, But still flush rose tints in the darkness falling, Although the sun has disappeared from view. The shadows of the islands and the islets Stretch far across the surface of the lake; The evening mists that float above the waters Are bright as rain-clouds after showers break. In the distance Tsu's[6] abounding forests Reveal their sombre outlines in the gloom; While on the farther shore the gates of King-chow Within the growing darkness faintly loom. The atmosphere with nightfall groweth clearer, A north wind blows with shrill voice through the land; While on the sandy stretches by the waters The swan and stork in dreamy silence stand. The waters now have ceased from restless heaving, My little boat is screened by rushes green; The moon emerging from the lake's horizon A soft light sheds upon the silent scene. Amid the silence and the ghostly beauty I touch my lute to plaintive songs of old, And soon the pleasant strains and long-drawn cadence Have seized my senses in their subtle hold. Thus in such ecstasy the hours pass quickly, And midnight comes with undetected speed; But now the heavy dew upon me falling Recalls my senses to the body's need. Ah me! my body's but a fragile vessel Upon the ever-moving sea of life, Where light and shade and fitful joys and sorrows Control me in their everchanging strife.