A Night-mooring at Wuchang
- Poetry of Lu Lun

Far off in the clouds stand the walls of Hanyang,

Another day's journey for my lone sail....

Though a river-merchant ought to sleep in this calm weather,

I listen to the tide at night and voices of the boatmen.

...My thin hair grows wintry, like the triple Xiang streams,

Three thousand miles my heart goes, homesick with the moon;

But the war has left me nothing of my heritage --

And oh, the pang of hearing these drums along the river!