In warm evenings I frequently sat in the boat playing the flute 

and saw the perch, which I seem to have charmed,

hovering around me, 

and the moon traveling over the ribbed bottom,

which was strewed with the wrecks of the forest.

Sometimes, I spent the hours of midnight 

fishing from a boat anchored in forty feet of water 

and communicating by a long line with mysterious nocturnal fishes,

serenaded by owls and foxes, and hearing from time to time, 

the creaking note of some unknown bird close at hand.

There was one older man an excellent fisher,

once in a while we sat together on the pond,

he at one end of the boat, and I at the other,

but not many words passed between us,

for he had grown deaf in his later years,

but he occasionally hummed a psalm,

which harmonized well enough with my philosophy.

Our intercourse was thus altogether one of unbroken harmony, 

far more pleasing to remember than if it had been carried on by speech.

 

溫暖的傍晚裡，我常端坐船上吹笛

河鱸彷彿受笛聲吸引

在四周迴游

月光在船底肋紋上游移

林中片羽點綴於上

有時我用漫長子夜

將船停在40呎深的水面垂釣

用長長的釣線，與神秘的夜行魚類對談

貓頭鷹與狐狸在旁唱和，偶然傳來

耳旁不知名鳥類的咯吱低吟

曾有個老人釣技高超

我倆偶爾並坐湖上

他守住船的一頭，我在另一端

彼此之間少有交談

他在晚年幾近耳聾

有時卻能哼唱詩歌

我的人生觀也深深共鳴

兩人之間流淌著綿密交融

在記憶中遠比任何言語更加歡快