In the wide sky, the wind blows, Du Fu's apes crow and birds return to clear lake, and the white sand leaves fall like waterfalls. I think the long river is rolling for three thousand miles. With the sadness of autumn and my hundred years of sorrow, I climbed this height alone, and the bad luck laid a biting frost on my temples. Heartache and fatigue were the thick dust in my wine. It's windy, apes cry, and it's very sad. There are birds on the clear water and white sand river. ...