Dawn View Afloat
- Poetry of Meng Haoran

I sail and gaze southeast, hills green and blue;

A water-land where distant peaks are few.

Ships large and small vie for a speedy race;

They come and go, winds helping tides apace.

“Where are you going?” — “To the Bridge of Stone.”

I watch flushed clouds that with the dawn have grown.

They look like Crimson Wall against the sky,

Where fairies dwell, in hours passing by.