In the mountains at dusk you hear the apes’ sad cries,
While the dark river flows swiftly through the night.
Wind rustles the leaves on the two river banks
And the moon shines down on a solitary boat.
This town of Jiandu is not my own land;
I think of a friend I used to have in Yangzhou,
And from far away I send two lines of tears
Back to him at the western end of the sea.