A poem expressing the poet's obsession with the moon.

The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks. I hope people will live for a long time and have a good scenery thousands of miles away. Sadness is inch by inch, and it is hard to make yourself intoxicated if you want to drown your sorrows in wine. Fear is just the edge, facing the sad morning wind and the setting sun of the waning moon. It is estimated that the annual heartbroken place, moonlit night, short matsuoka. People have joys and sorrows, and the moon has ups and downs. The bright moon doesn't know how to leave sorrow and hate bitterness, and shines obliquely through Zhuhu Lake. The bright moon tower is lonely, and the wine turns into sorrow and tears. The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river. Only the Guanshan Mountain tonight is the same as the moon thousands of miles away. Or the long smoke is exhausted, the bright moon is thousands of miles away, the light is shining, the static shadow is sinking, and the fishing songs are answered. How happy I am!