Middle of the river, runs green - lapping at my feet.
Border between sin and sierras grand pulls,
from speeding swirls paddle long, a sound screeching –
scree, scree, scree.
Behind me it growls under growing swells – never telling a location
lines lie its stirring.
Wind cries cloud depths.
Chinese translation (绝句)
江心碧浪拍足凉，
山罪牵绊涡流狂。
长桨破波声嘶响，
风啸云深影茫茫
