Autumn Lament
The wind is strong, the sky is high, the apes cry in sorrow,
The water is clear, the sand is white, and the birds fly back tomorrow.
Endless falling leaves rustle down, the Yangtze rolls endlessly,
A thousand miles of autumn sadness, wandering as a guest frequently.
For a hundred years I've been plagued with sickness, standing alone on the
tower,
Difficulties and bitterness have turned my hair frosty, my wine cup now is
sour. |