One after another, waves on waves onward sweep;
A straw-cloaked man fishes with rod and line.
The pretty-scaly fish in water deep
Shall be caught though in ninety fathoms nine.
They hesitate
To take the bait,
Not hooked till late.
The water’s chill
On river still;
He gazes his fill
From hill to hill,
His homeward way
Paved with moon ray.
一波才动万波随，
蓑笠一钩丝。
锦鳞正在深处，
千尺也须垂。
吞又吐，
信还疑，
上钩迟。
水寒江静，
满目青山，
载月明归。