Making fire in the boat on a snowy day
Raven silver charcoal catches fire and give forth green fog,
so I pretend its a large stick of heavy aloes incense.
Stopping, then starting, it follows forth thickly;
scattered into a fine mist it warms my robe and trousers.
But in a moment the fog clears, spitting out red rays,
and blazes like the rising sun of cloud surfaces.
This bright spring, mild sun warm my whole room;
my pale face reddens, I think I'm in the Land of Drunks!
Suddenly the fire grows cold, and the fog all disappears;
all I see is snowy ash piled up in my red stove.
Outside my window the snow is more than three feet deep,
but this snow inside my window is only one inch fragrant!
Yang Wanli
