The crescent moon hangs on a barren tree.
  The water clock has stopped and all is still.
  Who sees the sad man pace the shore alone?
  His shadow slants and curls into a swan.

The startled man stiffens and turns to look;
  His grief remains unseen by anyone.
  He passes on a seat of fallen log,
  And plops down on the wet and cold sandbank. 

NOTE: The original title is: 卜算子.