After rain the empty mountain
Stands autumnal in the evening,
Moonlight in its groves of pine,
Stones of crystal in its brooks.
Bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home,
Lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat --
And what does it matter that springtime has gone,
While you are here, O Prince of Friends?
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Comments1I remember stumbling upon Wang Wei's poetry as a teenager, and being inexplicably moved. The lines "Lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat -- And what does it matter that springtime has gone, While you are here, O Prince of Friends?" at the end of this poem really stuck with me for their simplicity and profundity. A truly timeless piece.