The poem
We climbed Yoyang Tower with all the scene around coming into vision; looking up the Great River seeing boats turn and enter the Tungting Lake; geese crying farewell to the river as they flew south; evening falling as if mountain tops upt up the moon with their lips; and we in the Yoyang Tower as if with heads amongst the cloud, drinking wine as if the cups came from heaven itself; then having drunk our fill there blew a cold wind filling out our sleeves, it seeming as though we were dancing in time with it.