On the Western Tower of Jinling

The cool breeze blows on silent night in Town of Stone,
To view the south I mount the high tower alone.
White clouds and city walls mirrored on ripples swoon;
Dewdrops look like pearls dripping from the autumn moon.
Crooning long, I won’t go back, drowned in moonrays;
How few are connoisseurs in my eyes since olden days!
Seeing the river crystal-clear and silver-white,
How I miss the unforgettable poet bright!