Tune: “Swallows Leaving Pavilion”
So picturesque the land by riverside.
In autumn tints the scenery is purified.
Without a break green waves merge into azure sky.
The sunbeams after rain take chilly dye;
Bamboo fence dimly seen ‘mid islet reeds
And shoreline thatch-roofed cottages overgrown with weeds.
Among white clouds are lost white sails.
And where smoke coils up slow.
There wineshop flag hangs low.
How many of the fisherman’s and woddsman’s tales
Are told about the Six Dynasties’ fall and rise!
Saddened, I lean upon the tower rails.
Mutely the sun turns cold and sinks in western skies.