Near the Li-chou Ferry

The sun has set in the water's clear void,
And little blue islands are one with the sky.
On the bank a horse neighs. A boat goes by.
People gather at a willow-clump and wait for the ferry.
Down by the sand-bushes sea-gulls are circling,
Over the wide river-lands flies an egret.
. . . Can you guess why I sail, like an ancient wise lover,
Through the misty Five Lakes, forgetting words?