Tune: "Song of a Dandy"
Hunting in Autumn
Withered grass on the plain.
After the Festival of Double Nines
From trees yellow leaves begin to flutter down.
I recall the jade bridle, my hair all black, the season of fallen blossoms,
And people gathering kingfisher feathers;
Suddenly I remember the notes of a flute.
But now there are only parched traces of the green that is gone,
Everywhere, shadows of frost on faded swirls of red;
Autumn waters reflecting the sky,
Chilling mist like a brocade,
Where the vultures fly,
The sky is somber, the clouds are high.
A man must take his pleasure,
Don't you know,
Easily the temples turn gray?
Since I've parted from the east wind,
I've suddenly grown crestfallen.
Why should I care for fame?
All my life,
I have worn a short cloak and shot at tigers,
Bought wine in the western suburb;
But I'll turn toward the sun's setting rays
And, leaning on my horse, put on a hero's air.