Moored at Jiande River
孟浩然
移舟泊烟渚
日暮客愁新
野旷天低树
江清月近人
yí zhōu bó yān zhǔ
rì mù kè chóu xīn
yě kuàng tiān dī shù
jiāng qīng yuè jìn rén
移舟泊烟渚，日暮客愁新。野旷天低树，江清月近人。
Traveler’s dusk grief—but clear river, moon feels close.
宿建德江：日暮客愁新，江清月近人。送别路径的收束——雨霖铃的无绪之后，一首承认孤独又在水面找到陪伴的绝句。不必名楼名寺，黄昏的江即可托身。今日：异乡时找一样「近」的东西——月、气味、静水。
Mooring at Jiande: dusk renews traveler’s grief, yet the clear river brings the moon near. On EastSage’s farewell path this is the close—after Song ci silence, a Tang quatrain that admits loneliness while finding companionship in landscape. Literary geography without a famous landmark: any river at twilight can hold you. Today: when far from home, look for one thing that feels close—the moon, a familiar smell, a quiet water surface.
孤独时找「月近人」的瞬间——陪伴有时很近。
In loneliness, find moments when “the moon feels near”—company can be close.
Read first, then practice — fill in lines and write a character.
Fill in the blanks
Practice calligraphy
This poem belongs to a place on the map—open the landscape to read both together.