Climbing high
[Author] Du Fu
[Full text]
The wind is strong, the sky is high, the apes are screaming in mourning, and the white birds are flying in the clear sand of Zhug. Back.
Boundless falling trees rustle, and the endless Yangtze River rolls by.
Wanli is always a guest in the sad autumn, and he has been sick for hundreds of years and only appears on the stage.
Hard and bitter, I hate the frost on my temples, and my new wine glass becomes muddy.