The tide flows out after the fall of frost,
From rippling green water a beach of sand will rise.
The soughing wind softens, the vigor of wine is lost,
When blows the breeze，
My sympathetic hat won’t leave my head with ease.
How shall we pass the holiday?
Wine cup in hand, we may send autumn away.
Everything will end in dreams,
It seems
Tomorrow fallen blooms will sadden butterflies.
白头邵翁
The tide flows out after the fall of frost, From rippling green water a beach of sand will rise. The soughing wind softens, the vigor of wine is lost, When blows the breeze， My sympathetic hat won’t leave my head with ease.
白头邵翁
How shall we pass the holiday? Wine cup in hand, we may send autumn away. Everything will end in dreams, It seems Tomorrow fallen blooms will sadden butterflies.