Leaves fall like a waterfall, while I watch the long river roll forward.
I came from three thousand miles away. With the sadness of autumn, with my sorrow of a hundred years, I climbed this height alone.
I am bitter and hate the frosty temples, and I am down and out, so that the turbid waves will splash the cup.
The wind is so fresh and the sky is so high.
Wake up the gibbon's cry. /
The island is well-defined and the sand is so white.
Stop the spinning seagulls from flying. /
Through the endless space with a rustling sound/
The fallen leaves are spinning around. /
Out of my sight, there is a raging sea/
The waves of the Yangtze River are rolling in. /
From far away, in the autumn wind,/
I find myself a stranger here. /
With a drag bottle and sick pay/
The lonely war is on this lofty stage. /
The test of trouble and pain/
My hair is getting grayer every day:/Until time, before my steps.
Pine tree,/put down this failed wine!