Waiting for the Ferry at Inchon

1

Gazing west — the isles of paradise,
beyond an expanse of mist;
alone, I stand in my mountain room,
lost in reverie.
Ocean vapors rise like steam,
turn into multicolored clouds:
wild mountains, innumerable,
floating in the sky.

2

Fresh flowers, brimming with dew,
fill the women's chambers:
beautiful women, their window-leaves
thrown open to the view!
At the horizon, a single thread,
dark and thin, like a hair:
one woman points to it, and says,
" The tide is coming in! "

3

The fishermen haul in their nets
as the evening tide returns;
I lean on the railing, into the wind,
and watch this scene from a painting.
This is the moment when the setting sun
touches the mountain's edge:
the whole catch is glistening
with scales of brilliant red!

4

The wail of a bugle shatters my dream,
awakens me at midnight:
the ocean's exhalation brings chill
in mid-summer.
At just the moment when loneliness
seems impossible to dispel,
through a clear night sky the glowing moon
comes toward the balcony.

5

Past midnight, all is quiet,
total calm.
The wind has stopped — beneath a vast sky
the night air is fresh.
Lighthouse beams are turning, disappearing
and reappearing:
firefly lights, glittering
in the midst of the ocean.
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Author of original: 
Liu E
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