I feel that autumn’s glad.
Who says that autumn’s sad?
Hills bring down setting sun;
Water and sky seem one.
Drink wine from pot jade-white;
From golden horse alight.
Repose and set it free;
Hang belt upon old tree.
Chant by the stream aloud!
Songs soar into the cloud.
Back to blue sea clouds fly,
Wild geese lost in blue sky.
Like them we’ll sever too,
In vain I’ll long for you.