English Rendering
Below the mountains green
Water runs till unseen;
In the midst of the stream two lonely isles stand high.
Fallen crags bar the way;
Birds and apes cannot stay;
Only the giant trees tower into the sky.
From where comes a sail white?
In mid-stream rises oarsmen's undulating song.
Sand bar is flat,the wind is weak,no boat in sight,
The Lonely Isles sink and swim with the sail for long,
Like mist-veiled tresses of a pretty lass
Using the river as her looking glass.
O merchant in the boat,don't go mad for the fair!
The Lonely Isle and Gallant Hill are a well-matched pair.
