(_Literal Version._)
Regret that dropping sun’s dusk;
Love this cold stream’s clearness.
Western beams follow flowing water;
Stir a ripple in wandering person’s mind.
Idly sing, gazing at cloudy moon;
Song done--sound of tall pines.
XX. 8. GOING DOWN CHUNG-NAN MOUNTAIN AND SPENDING THE NIGHT DRINKING
WITH THE HERMIT TOU-SSŬ
At dusk we left the blue mountain-head;
The mountain-moon followed our homeward steps.
We looked round: the path by which we had come
Was a dark cleft across the shoulder of the hill.
Hand in hand we reached the walls of the farm;
A young boy opened the wicker-gate.
Through green bamboos a deep road ran
Where dark creepers brushed our coats as we passed.
We were glad at last to come to a place of rest,
With wine enough to drink together to our fill,
Long I sang to the tune of the Pine-tree Wind;
When the song was over, the River-stars[46] were few.
_I_ was drunk and you happy at my side;
Till mingled joy drove the World from our hearts.
[46] Stars of the Milky Way.