In the Qing swing of Xin Qiji's Chu Tian Ge in the Southern Song Dynasty, the water goes with the sky, and the autumn is endless. From afar (cén) looking at the distance, offering sorrow for hate, hairpin for bun. The sun in the west leans against this floor, and geese are barking in the distant sky. I am wandering in the south of the Yangtze River, homesick for a wanderer. I look at this precious sword, I hold the railing upstairs, and no one understands the mind I am building now. Don't say that the bass is good enough to (kān)kuai, and neither Zephyr nor Jiying has come back yet? People like Xu Si who only buy land for themselves should be ashamed to see Liu Bei who is brilliant and complete in these two aspects. Unfortunately, time passes like running water. I'm really worried about the country's ups and downs. As Huan Wen said, the trees have grown so much! Red scarf and green sleeves, heroic tears, who calls?

I prefer "Autumn is clear in Chu and Tian Li, and the flowing water is endless with the days and autumn" and "It's a pity that the years fly and the trees are so sad!"