DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from Sundarbans
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The lake is glassy in August.
The air and sky are oh-so clear.
Vapor steams off of Yunmeng ponds,
Ripples lap at Yueyang's piers.
There're no boats to cross the water.
Shame! I couldn't emulate sages.
I sit and watch a fisherman
And envy his catch and his wages.
This is poem #124 in 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.] Original Poem in Simplified Chinese:
八月湖水平, 涵虚混太清。
气蒸云梦泽, 波撼岳阳城。
欲济无舟楫, 端居耻圣明。
坐观垂钓者, 空有羡鱼情。
Lying back on the water,
Peering into a cloud,
I shift like driftwood --
rocking and rising,
rolling and dipping.
As I stare at the cloud,
It seems to stare back.
It drifts - suspiciously -
Or maybe I'm drifting
And it is still --
In truth, we're both drifting,
And neither of us has
The mental energy to be
Suspicious.
Slender grass waves in a light breeze;
Tall-masted boat rocks in the night.
Stars hang low, over the vast plain;
The river moon struggles for height.
I'll never gain fame by the brush --
Too old for civil service posts...
Wading, wading, what am I like?
A sandpiper on the mud coast!
The original in Chinese (Title: 旅夜書懷):
細草微風岸,
危檣獨夜舟。
星垂平野闊,
月湧大江流。
名豈文章著,
官應老病休。
飄飄何所似,
天地一沙鷗。
This is Poem 113 of “Three Hundred Tang Poems,” i.e. 唐诗三百首

blossom drops,
fluttering slantwise
into still water.