Classic Poem

The fourfold cycle shifts to the Yin pitchpipes,
The Three Wings float on Baron Yang
The scent of lotus melts away late summer,
As breath from chrysanthemums enters new autumn.
Night crows chatter on whitewashed battlements
Geese descend for the night on isles of reeds
Ocean fogs veil the frontiers,
A wind from the river encircles the fortress tower.
The whirling tumbleweed startles at signs of parting,
The shifted orange grieves for departure's sorrow
My soul flies to the slopes of the Ba Mounds,
My tears are used up in Lake Dongting's currents
I'll stir my shadow, my thoughts on the " swan over the plain, "
And flee renown, withdrawing from Anthill.
But then I sigh at how far the capital is —
In vain I gaze on the white clouds drifting.