Tu Fu on the Yangtze by Bob Bradshaw

Once the Emperor looked to poets for advice the way a farmer watches the weather Now he listens to his concubine. That is why I'm on the Yangtze, adrift with no more sense of direction than the duckweed that drifts by. The monkeys on the riverbank shriek their pleasures and unhappiness without regard to what I think. For now I am water slipping silently over stones, a river forced to wander.

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