Ascending the Tower on the Double Ninth Day
to the tune of Narcissus
On the waters flowing east shines the evening sun,
Nothing I have achieved but hairs grey I’ve won.
The grieved man is thinner than the yellow flower on the way,
Afraid of the coming of this Double Ninth Day,
I take heart to ascend the height with feelings in dismay,
Afar is my home place three thousand miles away.
In the autumn wind I stand in this tower so high,
Sadness suddenly seizes me and I don’t know why.