أفكار في برد الشتاء المبكر

أفكار في برد الشتاء المبكر

Trees shed their leaves, wild geese head southward,

The north wind blows cold across the river.

My home lies by the winding Xiang River,

Far away beyond the clouds of Chu.

My tears for home are spent while I am a lone traveler,

I watch a solitary sail vanish at the edge of the sky.

I wish to ask the way at the ford,

But the flat sea stretches endlessly in the evening dusk.