Note of Traveling Night (旅夜書懷,杜甫)

The wind gently swept the shore with weeds.
The mast lonely stood on the boat at night.

The stars spread out upon landscape.
The Moon stir up the big river flowing away.

My poor fame may not come from my remarkable writings.
But,I retired,because of  I was old and sick.

And now,I stray alone,
Like a seagull between heaven and earth.