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 Wen 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.