No water is comparable to the green sea;No cloud to the clouds of Mt Wu.No woman is worthy of my backward glance:Partly due to ascetic practice, partly you.
Hard it was to meet you hard as well to say goodbye.The east wind s powerless, all flowers die.
Over old trees wreathed with rotten vines fly evening crows;Under a small bridge near a cottage a stream flows;One ancient road in the west wind a lean horse goes.Westward declines the sun，Far, far from home is the heartbroken one.
So dim, so dark,So dense, so dull.So damp, so dank, so dead!
So let us wish that man will live long as he can!Though miles apart,well share the beauty she displays.