Have you not seen the carp in the Eastern Sea, unbaitable,
Where Fengyi churns the river in spring's vast surge?
The fisher's boat returns, laden with moonlight,
A thunderclap stirs the peach-blossom waves.
Have you not seen the Kun in the Northern Sea, swallowing boats,
Where wave-houses and surge-mountains float and clash?
Suddenly it strikes water for three thousand miles,
Soaring ninety thousand on autumn's wu-ye wind.
The Daoist roams free in the Great Unity,
A pool of cold jade steeped in spring's azure.
Ten zhang of clear waves, how pure and bright,
A hundred giant fish leap and bound.
Brocade scales, iron fins, crimson jade manes,
Pearl teeth, icy cheeks, purple-gold spines.
In green glass fly jade shuttles,
In blue glaze cast golden rulers.
I suspect the Han court once let slip the net,
Or else at Yu's gate they once touched foreheads.
The fishing terrace's pines endure a thousand autumns' cold wind,
The Wei River's single rod, frosty moon white.
Zi Chan's intent was but vast and vague,
Geng's call could urge them on.
Sometimes they leap at the water's heart, hearing the lute,
Sometimes they crouch by the pool, recognizing sandals.
What heart had the ancients viewing the pear tree?
Today's mirror-stillness yields to the idle guest.
O fish, O fish, hear my words:
Where is the Great Unity True Man?
Still you bury heads in muddy ponds,
Not stretching claws toward the starry isle.
He planted red apricots but did not ride away,
Leaving them for the world to bring timely rain.