Liu Zongyuan Poetry 


A fisherman spends the night under West Rock,
pails clear river water and burns bamboo.

Smoke vanishes, sun rises and no one is seen.

The oar-sound turns mountains and water green.

Floating the central current, he turns to gaze at sky
above rock where mindless clouds chase each other.

tr. Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping
Chinese text

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