For ten miles the mountains rise
Above the lake. The beauty of
Water and mountains is
Impossible to describe.
In the glow of evening
A traveler sits in front
Of an inn, sipping wine.
The moon shines above
A bamboo fence that descends to
The water. I chat with an
Old man about work and crops.
Maybe, when the years have come
When I can lay aside my
Cap and robe of office,
I can take a little boat
And come back to this place.