A Traveler at Night Writes His Thoughts

Fine grass; slight breeze from bank;
High mast; alone at night in boat.

Over level widening waste stars droop—flowers;
Moon flows as water on vast surging stream.

Fame! Is it manifest by essays, poems?
An official, old, sick, should rest.

What do I resemble, blown by wind blown by wind?
A gull on the sand between Heaven and Earth.
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Author of original: 
Tu Fu
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