Page:More Translations from the Chinese (Waley).djvu/142

 [67] THE SOUTH

the southern land many birds sing; Of towns and cities half are unwalled. The country markets are thronged by wild tribes; The mountain-villages bear river-names. Poisonous mists rise from the damp sands; Strange fires gleam through the night-rain. And none passes but the lonely fisher of pearls. Year by year on his way to the South Sea. [138]