The dazzle on the island is about to disappear;
The smooth lake is brilliantly white—from the moon?
Over the lake, the moon is rising.
I think of the moment of meeting—the long stretch of time before it.
I think of misty Yen and gaze at Yüeh.
The lotus-flowers have fallen—Oh-h-h-h-h! The river is the colour of Autumn.
The wind passes—passes. The night is endless—endless.
I would go to the end of the Dark Sea. How eagerly I desire this!
I think much of fishing for a leviathan from the Island of the Cold Sea.
There is no rod long enough to raise it.