A Night Mooring on the Jiande River
While my little boat moves on its mooring of mist,
And daylight wanes, old memories begin. . . .
How wide the world was, how close the trees to heaven,
And how clear in the water the nearness of the moon!
And daylight wanes, old memories begin. . . .
How wide the world was, how close the trees to heaven,
And how clear in the water the nearness of the moon!
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