Traveling by Tom Sharp

The waters of every river I cross are different, some muddy, some clear. People move past; ducks fly overhead. Beside them, some rivers are mirrors, some are screens. Monkeys cry out in the evening. I feel sad for the wanderer who has no place to call home.

清溪行 by 李白 (Li Bai)

清溪清我心,水色异诸水。 借问新安江,见底何如此? 人行明镜中,鸟度屏风里。 向晚猩猩啼,空悲远游子。