The cold light in the hotel stays awake alone, and the guest's heart turns sad. My hometown is thinking thousands of miles tonight, and it's another year in the Ming Dynasty.
sailing far off from Jingmen Ferry, soon you will be with people in the south. Where the mountains end and the plains begin, and the river winds through wilderness. The moon is lifted like a mirror, sea-clouds gleam like palaces. And the water has brought you a touch of home, to draw your boat three hundred miles.