A bell in the mountain-temple sounds the coming of night. I hear people at the fishing-town stumble aboard the ferry, While others follow the sand-bank to their homes along the river. ...I also take a boat and am bound for Lumen Mountain -- And soon the Lumen moonlight is piercing misty trees. I have come, before I know it, upon an ancient hermitage, The thatch door, the piney path, the solitude, the quiet, Where a hermit lives and moves, never needing a companion.