Autumn wind rises; white clouds fly
Grass and trees wither; geese go south
Orchids, all in bloom; chrysanthemums smell sweet.
I think of my lovely lady; I never can forget.
Floating pagoda boat crosses Fen River;
Cross the mid-stream white waves rise.
Flute and drum keep time to sound of rowers' song;
Amidst revel and feasting sad thoughts come;
Youth's years how few, age how sure!