Sunset cloud gather far excess clear cold
Milky Way silent turn jade plate
This life this night not long good
Next year bright moon where see
Drinking through the night at East Slope,
still drunk on waking-up,
I return home around midnight.
My house-boy snores like thunder,
To what can our life on earth be likened?
To a flock of geese,
alighting on the snow.
Sometimes leaving a trace of their passage.
Lonely east slope a sick old man
White hair dull loose all frost wind
Son mistaken happy red face at
A smile that know is alcohol red
A lonely sick old man on eastern slope,
My frosty hair blows loosely in the wind.
My son, mistaken, is pleased by my ruddy face,
I smile: I know it's alcoholic red.
Soon know approach end year
be like go to hole snake
Long scales half already disappear
Go all trace who able stop
Ten years living dead both boundless
Not think of capacity self hardly possible forget
Thousand li alone grave not place say wife cold
Even if together meet must not recognise
Black cloud fly ink not cover hills
White rain leap drops random into boat
Sweep earth wind come suddenly blow disperse
View lake downstairs water like sky
Well bottom deep warmth return not return
Sighing cold rain wet withered root
What person more like come to teacher
Not be flower time willing come alone
White head dull loose all frost wind
Small pavilion rattan bed dependent sick appear
Report doctor spring sleep beautiful
Taoist softly ring fifth watch bell
Silkworm grow old
Wheat half yellow
Around mountain rain unrestrained
Farmer person stop plough