THOUGHTS OF OLD TIME ON THE CHU RIVER
A cold light shines on the gathering dew，
As sunset fades beyond the southern mountains；
Trees echo with monkeys on the banks of Lake Dongting，
Where somebody is moving in an orchid-wood boat.
Marsh-lands are swollen wide with the moon，
While torrents are bent to the mountains' will；
And the vanished Queens of the Clouds leave me
Sad with autumn all night long.