When the sky, mist, and waved clouds mingle at dawn,
when a star-laden river, the Milky Way, wheels
in the dance of a thousand sails,
then my spirit, in a dream, drifts to the empyrean,
listening to heaven’s voice
gently asking me about a journey:
What is your desire?
I answer with a sigh: The road is long at dusk;
I’ve studied poetry intently,
even written a few startling lines.
Yet the powerful peng bird
soars high for ninety thousand li
on pure wind, unceasing wind,
as I desire to send my little boat
three mythic mountains away.translated from Chinese by Karen An-hwei Lee