Speechless hands , The west wind blows the willows , The noise of cicadas is urgent . Far shadows sail into the sky , Lonely mood to clean up . How many idle worries , A pot of muddy wine , Remote memory of the end of the world . On Yuanyuan Lake , The wild geese in the reeds muffled their voices .
Alone I look at the waves , Faint crows and solitary ducks , Who knows love . Leaning away from the pavilion is like a dream , I don't know when to get drunk . Shuiying terrace , Moon hanging smoke tree , I used to play the night flute . Where are old friends , A boat flies in the sound of a broken Hong .
（ Picture from the Internet ）