崇禎五年十二月，余住西湖。大雪三日，湖中人鳥聲俱絕。是日更定矣，余拏一小舟，擁毳衣爐火，獨往湖心亭看雪。霧凇沆碭，天與雲與山與水，上下一白。湖上影子，惟長堤一痕、湖心亭一點、與余舟一芥、舟中人兩三粒而已。

When I stayed at West Lake during December, the fifth year of Chongzheng, a blizzard hit the lake for three days, and the lake was silent, void of any sound from humans or birds. One night at eight oclock, I hired a small boat, clad in a fur coat and laden with a fire furnace, to the Pavilion of Central Lake to watch the scenery of snowing alone. The ice floes and frost rime covered the surface of the lake, and the sky, mountains, and water were all immersed in whiteness. The only reflections in the lake were a trace of the dike, a contour of the pavilion, and a tiny part of my boat and me. 

到亭上，有兩人鋪氈對坐，一童子燒酒爐正沸。見余，大喜曰：“湖中焉得更有此人！”拉余同飲。余強飲三大白而別。問其姓氏，是金陵人，客此。及下船，舟子喃喃曰：“莫說相公痴，更有痴似相公者！”

In the pavilion, two people were sitting face to face on a carpet, and a kid was boiling the wine. In rapture, they accost me, "How can we expect someone else in the lake?" So, they invited me to join them for a drink. With all my heart, I drank up three cups and bid farewell to them. I asked who they were and knew they were visitors from Nanjing. When I returned and alighted from the boat, I heard the boatman murmuring, "You are not the only one in obsession; there are others just like you!"