Fishing in the Wei River

In waters still as a burnished mirror’s face, 

In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim. 

Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod 

And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream. 

A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear 

Softly shaking my ten feet of line. 

Though my body sits waiting for fish to come, 

My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.

Long ago a white-headed man

Also fished at the same river’s side; 

A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish, 

At seventy years, he caught W?n Wang.

But I, when I come to cast my hook in the stream, 

Have no thought either of fish or men. 

Lacking the skill to capture either prey, 

I can only bask in the autumn water’s light. 

When I tire of this, my fishing also stops; 

I go to my home and drink my cup of wine.