The Ji River Flows Clear

The Ji River Flows Clear

The Ji River Flows Clear

Like a silken ribbon winding round the town, A rainbow bridge spans the chasm o’er the ford renowned. Gazing afar, mist-blurred shores fade in the haze; Mind in accord, I see back-eddies bar the isle in maze. Clouds shroud the Wei where wheels find no passage through; The moon sets o’er the tong River, a fishing hook in view. It may join the sea in tributary course, But folks, don’t jeer at my long sojourn of course. — Qing Dynasty, Bai Jie, Baixiang County

The Ji River is a tributary of the Huai River. It enters from Gaoyi County in the northwest, meandering through villages such as Baolou and Shangjing before joining the Huai River. Later, it was connected to the moat, flowing around the northern and eastern sides of the county town and merging with the Wu River at the east gate before continuing eastward. Willows droop along the banks, and green grass carpets the ground. In spring, when the water rises with the warmth, it murmurs softly. With its clear, pale water and shoals of fish swimming freely to and fro, the river holds an ethereal charm. A short stone bridge—made of four slabs—stands just a stone’s throw northwest of the north gate outside the town. Nearby, in a quiet bay, the water runs deep and steady, attracting many fish that gather here, making it a great spot for fishing. In summer, sitting under the cool shade of the green willows by the water’s edge, with a gentle breeze blowing, one can cast a line, calm the mind, and instantly shake off the summer heat. Many people also come here to enjoy the cool air, chatting about the past and present amid the chirping of cicadas, while passing the long summer days. Fishing in Ji River’s bay, Where fish swim ‘neath the willow’s sway. The clear water seems so shallow, But ripples scare the fish to scatter. With rod in hand, one feels as if In a paradise this world has missed. When autumn arrives and the west wind begins to blow, bringing cooler weather, the Ji River too seems to embrace the chill. Its waters shift from clear to white, then to pale blue, flowing quietly like a stream of fine jade liquor. It resembles a sapphire ribbon drifting down from the horizon, shining brilliantly across the autumn fields. At dusk, as twilight falls, a mist rises over the river—hazy, like gauze, like smoke, like clouds. Beneath the mist, the Ji River appears and disappears, mysterious and serene. Gazing into the distance evokes a vast sense of endless waters. Standing on the bridge, watching the cooking smoke rise lazily from cottages along the bank and listening to the murmuring water below, one can’t help but recall Ma Zhiyuan’s line from “Autumn Thoughts” (Tian Jing Sha): “By a small bridge flows a stream beside a cot.” This is precisely the scene it depicts. “The Ji River Flows Clear”—how many people has it inspired with its reveries and poetic praise?