Thousands of mountains silent with no birds flying,
Ten thousand paths deserted without a trace of human presence.
An old man in straw raincoat sits in a lone boat,
The river and the sky merge seamlessly without a speck of dust,
The solitary moon in the clear sky rotates meticulously.
The spring breeze does not cross the Yumen Pass.
Why blame the weeping willows for the羌笛's mournful sound,
The spring breeze does not cross the Yumen Pass.
When young, he did not strive hard,
When old, he could only lament in vain.
Do not idle away your time,
Lest your youthful years turn white,
Leaving only empty sorrow and regret.
Do not idle away your time,
Lest your youthful years turn white,
Leaving only empty sorrow and regret.