Under blue mountains we wound our way,
My boat and I, along green water;
Until the banks at low tide widened,
With no wind stirring my lone sail.
.mw-parser-output .nowrap,.mw-parser-output .nowrap a:before,.mw-parser-output .nowrap .selflink:before{white-space:nowrap}. . . Night now yields to a sea of sun,
And the old year melts in freshets.
At last I can send my messengers—
Wildgeese, homing to Lo-yang.