The Double Ninth-An Epistle to Xu Junyou (to the tune of Nan Xiang Zi)

by Su Shi (1037 - 1101)

Water marks are dropping at frost descent;

Scales at the far end are emerging,

Above the greenish ripples.

The soft breeze gradually sobers me up.

A bit chilly!

The old and worn headwear seems even so dear to me.

If you come to celebrate this fine festival,

Let's have a good drink,

To bid farewell to autumn.

Everything is but a dream in the end;

Put up worries!

Even butterflies will frown with regret,

To find today's flowers faded tomorrow.