Clearing at Dawn

by Li Bai

The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;

　　The colours of Spring teem on every side.

　　With leaping fish the blue pond is full;

　　With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.

　　The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;

　　The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.

　　By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud

　　Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.

　　Li Po