Emperor Wen of the Han had a high terrace;
Today I climbed it as the colours of morning broke.
Clouds and hills of the Three Jins all lay to the north,
Wind and rain from the Two Tombs blew in from the east.
The guardian of the frontier gate---who would know him now?
The old man of the river departed and never retruned.
But I want to go in search of Peng Ze---
Get happily fuddled with him on chrysanthemum-flower wine!