On Yueyang Tower in a Storm II
- Poetry of Huang Tingjian

Upon the tower, alone, in the rain’s blinding folds I stand,

While the whole river roars, and the storm takes the land.

And there — the distant peaks, like the dark‑twisted hair

Of the drowned nymphs of Xiang, in the cloud‑laden air!

O, to be on the waters! To ride that heaving plain,

And from the silver mountains of the surge, to behold again

The eternal greens of the hills — a more glorious, terrible sight,

Torn from the heart of the tempest, and clothed in its light!